


Après La Tempête

by Filthyfilterxo



Series: Après La Tempête [1]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 1800s, 1800s Historical, Action/Adventure, Adultery, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, British Slang, Crime, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Human/Vampire Relationship, Mentions of Death, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Sleeping around, Slow Burn, Smut, Superstitions, Suspense, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Taehyung, Vampires, Werewolves, constable namjoon, drama lots of drama, opera dancers, vampire hunter kim seokjin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2020-12-20 22:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthyfilterxo/pseuds/Filthyfilterxo
Summary: Sequel to Eternalism.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to 'Eternalism' ; I had written up to 3 chapters including the prologue. This story is focused on Taehyung and what he had done while he was gone. You don't necessarily have to read 'Eternalism' first but if you want further back story, then it would be wise to do so. In this story; you are Y/N. ((Even though Gracie ends up with Taehyung in Eternalism, i wanted to write it as if we were all Gracie and just put Y/n so we can all be Gracie. Make sense??))

** _It was a lovely night to die. _ **

As twilight waned, plump feathers of snow began to drift down from the starless sky. Soon everything that was coarse and ugly and dirty about the teeming streets were buried beneath a downy blanket of white. The flakes danced and swirled around the streetlamps, reducing their glow to a hazy halo. 

A girl drew her shawl over her fine, black hair, ducked her head, and quickened her steps. The snow’s dazzling beauty didn’t stop the wind from biting through her threadbare shawl with icy teeth. She had never been more eager to reach the dreary flat she shared with three other girls. Soon she would be hunkered down in front of her own hearth with a bowl of porridge to warm both her hands and her belly. 

As a sneering footman elbowed her off the walk so his lady could sweep past, the girl cast the woman’s elegant kid gloves a longing glance. Working fifteen hours a day as a seamstress left her fingertips stinging and raw. On nights like this, they sometimes cracked and bled, leaving her to cry herself to sleep. 

She lifted her chin, refusing to feel sorry for herself. Her dear old mother, God rest her soul, had always encouraged her to count her blessings. No gentleman was ever going to hire an uneducated woman to teach his children or serve as a companion to his wife, but at least she hadn’t had to take to the streets like so many girls who had come off that same boat three years ago. The thought of selling her body to every man with a bone in his pants and two shilling to rub together chilled her to the soul. 

As she approached the darkened mouth of the next alley, her steps slowed. By cutting through the winding lane, she could save nearly three blocks from her journey. She wouldn’t normally take a risk, but surely there would be no one to accost her on such a bitterly cold night. She had no purse for a thief to cut, and with her shoulders hunched against the wind and her shawl drawn up to hide her rosy cheeks, any man intent upon mischief could easily mistake her for a toothless crone. 

Thinking yearningly of the crackling fire and a steaming bowl of porridge that awaited her at the end of her journey, she cast one last look at the bustling throngs behind her, then ducked into the alley. She hurried through the shifting shadows, growing more uneasy with each step. The wind swept through the tunnel created by the ramshackle buildings that loomed over her on either side, moaning like a betrayed lover. She stole a look over her shoulder, already beginning to wish she’d stayed on the congested streets and walked the extra blocks to her flat. Although the snow that had blown into the alley was unmarked by any prints but hers, she would have sworn she heard a muffled footfall behind her. 

Determined to reach the end of the alley before she had true cause to regret her decision, she broke into a trot. She was almost to the mouth of the alley when the toe of her boot caught on a jutting cobblestone, sending her sprawling to her hands and knees. 

A shadow fell over her. She slowly lifted her head, terrified of what she might find. But her gasp of shock was quickly swallowed by a sob of relief. No cutpurse would be arrayed in such handsome finery. 

As the stranger looming over her gently cupped her elbow and lifted her to her feet. She found herself gazing up into a pair of eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim light. 

“You poor lamb,” her rescuer crooned. “You took quite a nasty tumble. Do you have a name, child?” 

“Jennie,” she whispered, mesmerized by those extraordinary eyes. “My name is Jennie.” 

The stranger smiled, obviously detecting the telltale lilt in her speech but the smile faded. “Why look at that! Your hands are bleeding!” 

Jennie curled her fingers into her torn palms, suddenly embarrassed by the roughness of her skin and her grubby fingernails. “It’s nothing really. Just a scratch.” 

“Why don’t you let me have a look at them?” 

Although she tried to resist, the stranger’s grip was surprisingly strong. Before she knew it, one of her palms was exposed to that glowing gaze. She thought she might be offered a clean handkerchief to bind the wound. But to her keen shock, the stranger bent back her fingers and began to lap at the fresh droplets of blood with a greedy tongue. 

Trembling with horror, Jennie snatched back her hand and wheeled around to run, already beginning to suspect that there would be no cozy fire or bowl of porridge in her future. Before she could take two steps, the stranger had seized her in a merciless grip. She flailed and kicked, her hands curled into desperate claws, but her strength was no match for her assailant’s. 

“Good night, sweet Jennie.” whispered the singsong voice in her ear just before everything went red, then black. 


	2. Chapter 1

_ It was a lovely day to die. _

Feathers of snow drifted out of the dawn sky, blanketing the park meadow in white. It wasn’t difficult for Kim Taehyung to imagine how that pristine counterpane would look spattered with his blood. His shout of laughter profaned the hush of the falling flakes. “What did you say, Chubby, my man? Shall we sing a few rousing choruses of ‘The Girl I Left Behind Me’ to spur us onward to glory?” he stumbled as a contrary hillock snagged his foot, forcing him to drape his arm even more heavily over the ample shoulders of his friend. “Perhaps, ‘Blow The Man Down’ would be more appropriate.” 

Chubby listed to the right, struggling to balance both Taehyung and the mahogany box tucked beneath his free arm. “I’d rather not, V. My head is aching something fierce. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. What sort of second allows his first to stay out all night, getting fixed before a duel? You should have let me put you on that ferry back to Daegu while there was still time.” 

Taehyung wagged a chidding finger at him. “Don’t scold. If I had wanted a nag, I would have married one.” 

Chubby gave a doleful snort. “If you’d have had the good sense to fall in love and marry some unfortunate chit, Hoseok wouldn’t have caught you nuzzling his fiancee’s ear at their betrothal supper and I’d be tucked in my cozy bed right now, dreaming about opera dancers and toasting my feet on a warm brick.” 

“You insult me, Chubs! I never met a woman I didn’t love.” 

“On the contrary, you love every woman you meet. There is a distinction, however subtle.” Chubby grunted as his friend trod upon the side of his foot. He had imbibed nearly as many bottles of cheap wine as Taehyung had, but at least he could still stand without assistance…

For now. 

“Shhhhh!” His friend’s exaggerated pleas for silence startled a flock of starlings from the branches of a nearby alder. Taehyung pointed one elegant gloved finger. “There they are now, lurking beneath the copse of fir.” 

From what Chubby could ascertain, the gentlemen waiting beside the crested town coach on the far side of the meadow were making no attempt to lurk. Jung Hoseok, the marquess, was pacing a shallow trench in the snow. His tautly controlled strides never varied, not even when he jerked his watch from its fob pocket to glower at its face. A trio of companions hovered behind him--two gentlemen in voluminous box coats and a dour figure garbed all in black. Probably some disreputable surgeon who dabbled in undertaking, Chubby thought grimly, summoned to treat the loser of this illegal contest. 

Or to measure him for his coffin. 

A shiver of dread coursed down his spine. He raked a sandy lock of hair out of his hazel eyes and tugged Taehyung to a halt, his desperation mounting. “Beg off, V. It’s not too late. What are they going to do? Run us down in their carriage and shoot you in the back? Why, I’ll even go back to Daegu with you! My father will forgive me in time. He’s already cut off my allowance because I bought that diamond brooch for that delicious little actress you introduced me to. What more can he do? I know my father. He’ll never disinherit his only son.” 

Taehyung stifled his blathering with a reproachful look. “Bite your tongue, Chubs. Surely you’re not suggesting that I prove myself to be that most despised of all creatures--a man without honor.”

Beneath the sable fringe of his lashes, Taehyung’s soulful dark eyes fixed him with a gaze rife with wounded pride and wry self mockery. Most women found the combination irresistible, Chubby was equally devastated. 

Who was he to deny his friend this moment? He was only the slow witted son of a crotchety old earl, destined to inherit a title and fortune he hadn’t earned and die of comfortable old age in his bed. He wouldn’t even have survived his Grand Tour if Taehyung hadn’t rescued him from the clutches of a furious creditor at their very first meeting in a moonlit alley back in Aquila. Taehyung was a war hero, knighted by the Crown after he and his regiment had defeated sixty thousand bloodthirsty soldiers on the outskirts of Laguna a little over a year ago. This was hardly the first time he had faced his own mortality with such effortless grace. 

Chubby groaned his defeat. 

Taehyung gave his shoulder a consoling pat, then sought to drag himself erect. “Unhand me, Chubs, my man. I’m determined to march forward and meet the enemy on my own two feet.” Shaking his shoulder length mane of dark blonde hair out of his eyes, he called out, “Onward!” 

The marquess and his somber party turned as one. Taehyung had just added injury to insult by addressing the nobleman by his surname instead of his title. Chubby fancied he could hear the hiss of the marquess’s withdrawn breath, but perhaps it was only the bitter January wind rushing past his frozen ears. 

Struggling valiantly against the billowing snow, Taehyung marched forward to bisect Hoseok’s path. Chubby hugged the wooden box to his chest, a twinge of pride piercing his anxiety as Taehyung paused at the crest of a knoll to throw back his broad shoulders. He might have been preparing to brave the blinding wind and torrential rains of the monsoon season. No one would have guessed he’d resigned his military commission right after the battle of Laguna and had spent the past year and a half drinking and gambling his way across Daegu. 

Chubby’s pride changed to alarm as the adjustment in Taehyung’s bearing caused him to topple slowly backward, like a felled oak. Dropping the box, Chubby scrambled forward to catch him beneath the armpits before he could sprawl full length in the snow. 

Taehyung righted himself, chuckling beneath his breath. “Had I known the wind was gusty, I’d not have unfurled my sails.” 

“Jesus, V, you reek of spirits!” 

Chubby looked up to find the marquess sneering down his long equine nose at them. 

Taehyung’s lips quirked in an angelic smile. “Are you certain it’s not your fiance's perfume?”

Hoseok’s face darkened to a dangerous hue. “Miss Wood is no longer my fiance.”

Taehyung turned his smile on Chubby. “Remind me to call on the young lady this evening to offer her my heartfelt congratulations.” 

“I doubt you will have the chance. She will probably be offering your friend here her condolences.” Hoseok pulled off his kid gloves and slapped them against his palm, much as he had slapped them across Taehyung’s cheek at supper the night before. “Let’s get on with this, shall we? You’ve already wasted quite enough of my valuable time.”

Chubby stuttered a protest, but Taehyung interrupted. “I do believe the gentleman is right. I’ve wasted quite enough of everyone’s time.” 

Robbed of the opportunity for further argument, Chubby retrieved the box and fumbled with its clasp. The lid sprang open to reveal a gleaming pair of dueling pistols. As he reached for one of the weapons, his hand began to shake with a palsy that had nothing to do with the cold. 

Taehyung cupped a hand over his to steady it and said softly, “There’s no need. I checked them myself.” 

“But I’m supposed to check the charge. As your second, it’s my duty to…” 

Taehyung shook his head and gently pried the gun from his grasp. As their gazes met, Chubby caught an elusive glimpse of something odd in his friend’s eyes--a bleak resignation that made a lump of premature sorrow swell in his own throat. But Taehyung banished it with one of his devilish winks before Chubby could convince himself it wasn’t simply an illusion caused by too much liquor and too little deep. 

Terse details cluttered Chubby’s mind as they argued the rules of the contest with Hoseok and his second. The two combatants were to start out back to back before each took ten paces. Their pistols were to be held muzzles up, pointed at the sky, and only a single volley was to be allowed. Chubby eyed the giant specter of Hoseok’s undertaker. Considering how deep in his cups Taehyung was, a second volley shouldn’t necessary. 

Too soon, Taehyung and the lankier Hoseok had taken their positions, standing back to back like a pair of mismatched bookends. 

“Gentlemen, are you ready?” called out the neutral party provided by the marquess. When they both nodded, he began to count. “One...two...three…” 

Chubby wanted to wail a protest, to hurl himself between the two men. But honor demanded that he remain frozen into place by the icy wind whipping out of the north. 

“Seven...eight...nine…”

Knowing himself to be the basest of cowards and an abominable second, yet unable to watch his friend die, Chubby squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Ten!” 

A pistol blast shattered the meadow’s tranquillity. Chubby’s nose twitched at the caustic stench of gunpowder. He slowly opened his eyes to find his worst fears realized. 

Taehyung lay sprawled in the snow while Hoseok stood forty feet away, a smoking pistol in his hand. His face bore such a smirk of grim satisfaction that the good natured Chubby felt a wave of murderous rage roll through his own veins. 

As he dragged his gaze back to his friend’s motionless form, icy flecks of snow stung his eyes. Bowing his head, he reached up with a trembling hand to draw off his hat. “Bloody hell.” 

The sullen oath, bitten off in such familiar tones, jerked Chubby’s head upright. Disbelief coursed through his veins, sobering him more thoroughly than a blast of arctic air. As Taehyung sat up, blinking snow from his lashes, Hoseok’s nasty smile faded. Chubby whooped with joy and stumbled to his friend’s side, dropping to his knees in the snow. Taehyung’s pistol was sprawled a foot away from his hand. Apparently, he hadn’t even managed to get a shot off. Chubby shook his head, marveling at his friend’s astonishing good for tune. 

“I don’t understand.” the marquess spat. “I would have sworn my aim was true.”

The man’s second frowned, looking equally bewildered. “Perhaps it was a misfire, my lord, or perhaps he lost his footing in the moment before you fired.” 

Hoseok stalked over to glare down at them, his aristocratic upper lip curled in a snarl. His second peered nervously over his shoulder, plainly fearing he would somehow be blamed for this debacle. 

Taehyung’s lips curved in a sheepish smile. “Sorry, mates. I’ve always held my women better than I hold my port.” 

Chubby’s blood froze anew as Hoseok snatched his remaining pistol from his second and pointed it straight at Taehyung’s heart. Taehyung surveyed him with lazy amusement, refusing to yield so much as a flinch for his enemy’s gratification. Chubby knew instinctively that if Taehyung betrayed a hint of fear, if he uttered a single plea for mercy, Hoseok would shoot them both without a qualm, and bribe the undertaker to say that Chubby had pulled a weapon on him after the marquess had killed his friend. 

Hoseok slowly lowered the weapon; Chubby sighed with relief. 

The marquess’s velty voice crackled with contempt. “You’ll wish you were dead by the time I’m through with you, you scurrilous bastard. Assuming you wouldn't even bother to make an appearance this morning, I took the liberty of buying off all of your gambling vowels.” he drew a sheaf of IOUs three inches thick from his waistcoat pocket and leaned down to rattle them in front of Taehyung’s nose. “I own you, V. Body  _ and _ soul.” 

Taehyung’s chuckle swelled into a full fledged laugh. “I’m afraid you’re too late. The devil beat you to that particular vowel a long time ago.”

His mirth only enraged the marquess further. “Then I can only pray he comes to collect very soon because I’d like nothing more than to see you spend eternity rotting in hell!” 

Hoseok spun on his heel and marched toward the coach. His companions trailed after him, the undertaker visibly sulking at being deprived of the opportunity to practice his trade. 

“A rather ill natured fellow, isn’t he?” Chubby murmured. “Do you suppose he suffered from dyspepsia?” 

As the angry jingling of the carriage harnesses subsided, Chubby and Taehyung were left alone in the hazy stillness of the meadow. Taehyung just sat there with one arm propped on his knee, gazing up at the sky. His uncharacteristic silence unnerved Chubby more than all of the morning’s events combined. He had come to rely on his friend’s repartee, the cutting edge of his wit. It had always been too much of a strain for him to think of anything clever to say. 

He was about to clear his throat and try anyway when a bleak shadow of a smile crossed Taehyung’s face. “Despite my best efforts, it seems I’m just not destined to die on a dueling field with the taste of another man’s woman still on my lips.” 

Chubby replaced the pistol in its case and tucked the case beneath his arms before tugging Taehyung to his feet. “Don’t give up all hope. Perhaps you can still expire in debtor’s prison from a lingering bout of consumption.” 

Chubby was swinging him around to get him pointed in the right direction when he noticed the tear in the front of Taehyung’s black great coat. 

“What’s this?” he asked, knowing his friend was far more fastidious about his attire than he was about his numerous affairs of the heart. 

He brushed his fingers over the finely woven wool, puzzled by the jagged rip. It was well over an inch wide and the threads rimming its edge were twisted and blackeneed, almost as if they’d been scorched. 

He’d already started to work one finger through the hold when Taehyung caught his hand in a grip that was both gentle and intractable. “The marquess's pistol ball must have grazed my coat as i fell. Curse the man! Had I realized it sooner, I’d have made him tear up one of those IOUs.” he said. 

Chubby slowly withdrew his hand, the warning gleam in his friend’s dark eyes giving him no choice. 

Taehyung clapped him on the arm, a grin softening expression. “Come, Chubs. My toes are nearly frozen. Why don’t we share a nice warm bottle of wine for breakfast?” 

As he turned and started across the meadow, Chubby gazed after him, doubting his own senses. He would have almost sworn….

Taehyung suddenly stopped and swung around, his eyes narrowing. He turned his piercing dark gaze toward an ancient yew tree that squatted at the edge of the meadow a few yards away, its gnarled arms frosted with snow. His elegant nostrils twitched, then flared, as if he’d scented something particularly enticing. His lips drew back from his teeth and, for an elusive instant, there was something almost feral in his expression, something that made Chubby take a step away from him. 

“What is it?” Chubby whispered. “Has the marquess doubled back to finish us off?” 

Taehyung hesitated for a moment, then shook his head, the predatory glow in his eyes fading. “It’s nothing at all, I suppose. Just a ghost from my past.” 

Giving the yew one last look through narrowed eyes, he continued across the meadow. As Chubby fell into step behind him, Taehyung launched into the chorus of ‘The Girl I left Behind Me’ in a baritone so pure it could have made the angels weep with envy. 

**\- - - - **

The woman huddled behind the yew tree slumped against its broad trunk, her knees going weak. The notes of the song slowly faded, leaving her alone with the murmur of the falling snow and the unsteady throb of her heart in her ears. She couldn’t say whether her heart was pounding with terror or excitement. She only knew she hadn’t felt this alive in almost six years. 

She had slipped out of the house at dawn and instructed her driver to follow the marquess and his entourage to Sensorica park, torn between hoping the gossip was true and praying it wasn’t. But all it had taken was one peek around that tree and she was once again a bright eyed eighteen year old, basking in the frist awkward flush of infatuation. 

She had counted off each step the duelists took as if she was marking the final moments of her own life. When the marquess had turned, pistol at the ready, it had been all she could do not to leap out from behind the tree and scream a warning. When the pistol shot rang out and she watched the marquess’s opponent crumple to the ground, she clutched her chest, certain her own heart had stopped. 

But it had started beating again the moment he sat up, shaking the curling dark blonde mane of his hair from his face. Drunk with relief, she had forgotten her own danger until it was nearly too late. 

She had been gazing after him, her heart in her eyes, when he suddenly stopped and turned, his body taut with the tensile grace she remembered only too well. 

She had ducked back behind the tree, holding her breath. Even with the sheltering trunk of the yew between them, she could feel his gaze penetrate her defenses, its probing caress leaving her as vulnerable as the kiss he had brushed across her brow the last time they had met. Pressing her eyes tightly shut, she had touched one hand to the velvet choker that circled the slender column of her throat. 

Then he was gone, his voice fading to an echo, then a memory. She slipped out from behind the tree. Fat snowflakes drifted from the sky, filling the scattering of footprints and the hollow where his body had lain. Soon there would be no proof that the misbegotten duel had ever taken place. 

She almost pitied his companion for his ignorance. She had nearly six years to learn how to embrace the impossible, but she’d still had to bite back a stunned gasp when that lean form had risen from its grave of snow. If his companion’s hand hadn’t been stayed, she knew exactly what the man would have found. That plump finger would have wiggled its way through greatcoat, coat, waistcoat, and shirt, not stopping until it brushed the unblemished skin over a heart that should have been shattered by the marquess’s pistol ball. 

You adjusted the veil on the sweeping brim of your hat, a faint smile curving your lush lips. You didn’t regret one moment of your reckless jaunt. You had proved the rumors were more than just idle gossip. 

Kim Taehyung had come home after six years. And if the devil wanted his soul, then the old rascal would just have to beat you to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So 6 years later; y/n is 24. Taehyung is a vampire and doesn’t age but he looks older/mature. Maybe they both grew up in their time apart.


	3. Chapter 2

_ “Have you lost your mind?”  _

A more delicate soul might have qualified at having such a question directed at them--especially when uttered in a near roar by such an impressive specimen of a man-- but you refused to take offense. After all, it wasn’t as if your brother-in-law made a regular habit of questioning your sanity. He’d only done it twice before. Once when you had cornered a hissing six hundred year old vampire during the bassoon interlude at Lady Baum’s midsummer musical, holding him at bay with a violin bow until Jin could arrive with his crossbow. And only last month when you had turned down not one, but TWO, handsome, wealthy young noblemen eager to make you their bride. 

Had he been bellowing at you out of spite instead of concern, you might have been more alarmed. But you knew that Jin could have adored you no more had you been born _ his _ sister instead of his wife’s. 

It was that steadfast certainty that allowed you to serenely blink up at him from the winged chair in front of the hearth as he paced the drawing room of his Mansion, scowling like an ogre and dragging his fingers through his honey colored hair until it bristled like a lion’s mane. 

He spun around on the heel of one polished boots and stabbed a finger in your direction. “You may be in danger of losing your mind, but I’m still in full possession of all of my faculties. And if you believe for one minute that I’m going to allow you to put yourself in such grave peril, then you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“I don’t plan on putting myself in any peril at all,” you replied. “Now that I’ve found him, I simply want to have a civilized conversation with your brother.” 

Your eldest sister rose from the brocaded sofa to slip her arm through her husband’s. With her belly just beginning to swell with their second child and her hair slicked back into a crisp chignon, she should have resembled a placid Madonna. But the sparkle of humor and intelligence in her eyes made her look less than serene. “Jin’s right, pet. It’s far too risky. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you tried to help him? You nearly died.” 

“ _ He _ nearly died,” you reminded her. “I saved him.” 

Jin and your eldest sister exchanged a glance, but you simply set your lips in a firm line. You had never told anyone exactly what had happened in that crypt nearly six years ago. And you had no intention of doing so now. 

“I know you’ve spent many sleepless nights worrying about Taehyung.” your eldest sister said. “We all have. But you still have to think about the danger to yourself.” 

“A little danger didn’t keep you away from Seokjin when everybody believed he was a vampire.” 

“In case you’ve forgotten, there was one significant difference. And Taehyung may not even be the vampire you remember. He’s been gone for almost six years and we’ve heard absolutely nothing from him for over three of those years. Not a letter, not a word, not a whisper. He didn’t even contact us after we sent word that Katherine had been born.” Your eldest sister stole an indulgent look at the rosy cheeked, honey haired toddler who was cheerfully gnawing at the gold tassels on one of the sofa cushions. “Nor did he respond after Jin wrote a letter to him. He and Jin were once as close as two brothers could be. Why would he sever all ties to us if he hadn’t decided to turn his back on the search for his soul?” 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But the only way to find out is to ask him.” 

“And just why would he confide in you?” Jin asked, cocking one tawny eye brow. “Because he’s always had an eye for a pretty girl? Because there’s still some streak of sentimentality left in him after all of these years of living as a monster? Some spark of humanity?” 

You held your tongue. There were no words to explain the bond you had felt tugging at your heart since your time in the crypt. Even if there had been, you knew they would just accuse you of clinging to a young girl’s romantic fancy. 

Jin dropped to one knee in front of the chair, bringing himself eye to eye with you. Your parents had been killed in a carriage accident when you were only nine. After he and your eldest sister had wed, Jin had eagerly welcomed you into their home, never once suggesting that they shuffle you off to some horrid relative like your cousin or your vapid Aunt Marie. He covered both of your hands with one of his own, his eyes darkened by worry. “I’m not completely blind. I know you’ve been hoarding weapons and secretly training to help me fight vampires for years. But this isn’t your battle, child. It’s mine.” 

You tugged your hands from his. “I’m nearly twenty four years old, Jin. I’m no longer a child.”

“Then perhaps it’s time you listened to reason and stopped behaving like one.”

You would have much preferred bellowing to his measured, rational tones. You rose, drawing yourself up to your full five feet and two inches and wishing for one of the elaborate hats you favored to add height to your stature. “Very well,” you said cooly. “If I’m going to stop behaving like a child, then I no longer require your permission or your approval to seek out your brother’s company.” 

Jin straightened and gently seized your shoulders, the pleading note in his voice more unsettling than any roar. “Have you forgotten that four women have died in the last fortnight? That their bodies were drained of every last drop of blood, then left to rot in the alleys. I’ve spent the last five years driving nearly every vampire from the borders of this city. Do you believe in your heart that it could be pure happenstance that these murders took place just as Taehyung was rumored to have returned to Sensorica?” 

You met his gaze squarely. “Do you believe in your heart that your own brother is capable of committing such atrocities?” 

Jin’s hands fell away from you, fisting helplessly at his sides. “I no longer know what he might be capable of. I no longer know him at all. But he is my brother. And my responsibility. If anyone is to confront him about these murders, it will be me.” He exchanged another guarded look with your eldest sister. “I’ll go first thing in the morning.” 

“In the morning?” you echoed. “While he slumbers? When he’s at his weakest and most vulnerable?” 

Your eldest sister made a small sound of distress, but you couldn’t seem to stop. 

“I know  _ exactly _ what happens to vampires when you come calling in the morning, Seokjin. So which weapons will you take with you? The crucifix? The stakes? Your crossbow? You’ve dispatched many savage fiends with that particular weapon. I suppose it was inevitable that Taehyung would someday feel its sting.” 

Jin touched his fingertips to the burgundy velvet choker that adorned your slender throat, the regret in his eyes making him look far older than his thirty five years. “Better that he would feel my sting than that you--or any other woman--would feel his.”

As he strode from the room, you turned to your sister, desperately hoping to find an ally in your sister. After all, hadn’t you once helped her prove that Seokjin wasn’t the villain everyone believed him to be? 

But your eldest sister shook her head. “Oh, Y/N, why must you make this more difficult for him than it already is? If Jin hadn’t been forced to destroy Yoongi to protect me,” she said, referring to the ruthless vampire who had turned Taehyung into a vampire by sucking his soul out of him at the moment of his death, “then Taehyung might have retrieved his soul a long time ago. He never would have had to go searching for the vampire who sired Yoongi. Jin fought so hard and so long to save his brother. How do you think he feels now, knowing that he may very well have failed? Knowing that innocent women may have suffered and died because of that failure?” she scooped her daughter into her arms and followed her husband from the room, shooting you one last reproachful look. Katherine peered over her mother’s shoulder, her own eyes bewildered. 

You blew out a beleaguered sigh. You supposed it had been naive of you to expect your family to open their arms and their hearts to welcome home the prodigal vampire. For all you knew, Taehyung might be every bit as lost as they feared him to be. 

But some small corner of your heart rejected that notion, refused to believe that the man who had once tweaked your nose and called you his “Bright Eyes” could have drained the life from those women and tossed them into the alley like so much rotting garbage. 

You went to the window, drawing aside the heavy velvet drapes. The scant daylight was already beginning to fade, leaving the broad street bathed in the luminous glow of the snow. Although a few flakes still spun on the wind, the clouds had scattered, exposing the pale crescent of the rising moon. You glanced at the marble clock on the mantel, your sense of urgency growing. Taehyung’s time was running out and so was yours. 

If you were going to prove them all wrong, you would have to do it before the sun came up and Jin went in search of his brother--perhaps for the very last time. 

\- - - - - -

At the moment Kim Taehyung didn’t mind being soulless nearly as much as he minded being sober. His stagger had steadied to a swagger and even that was being robbed of its usual grace by exhaustion and hunger. He turned his coat pockets inside out only to find them woefully empty. Perhaps he should have been so quick to abandon Chubby on the steps of his father’s townhouse. 

Chubby had been quietly casting up his accounts on the earl’s beloved azalea bushes when the old man had poked his head out of an upstairs window, his nightcap askew, and bellowed, “What have you done to my lad now, Kim? My Chubby was a good boy until he started running with the likes of you. Devil’s spawn!” 

Taehyung had gently yielded Chubby’s floundering bulk to a footman before tipping his beaver hat to the earl. “And a good evening to you, too, my lord.” 

The old man had shaken his gnarled fist at him with such vigor that Taehyung had feared he was going to topple out of the window and crack his skull. 

Taehyung was shaking his head at the memory when his gloved fingers slipped through a hole in the silk lining of his coat pocket. He withdrew a single dull shilling and held it aloft. 

“Jin always did say I had the luck of the devil,” he murmured. 

But it was the devil who had been unlucky on this day, he thought ruefully. Had circumstances been different, the old goat would have been standing at the gates of Hell, tapping his cloven hoof with anticipation at the exact moment Hoseok had fired his pistol. 

How odd that the moment had brought with it not the stench of brimstone, but a whiff of heaven. It wasn’t the first time he had been haunted by that particular scent. The elusive fragrance had once stalked him down a narrow alley in Daegu, overpowering the exotic aroma of cumin and turmeric. It had wafted through the soot stained window of a garret, making his body burn with hunger. And on a rain drenched battlefield while his nostrils were still choked with the smell of blood and smoke, he had scented it on the wind, the fragrance so dear and familiar it had made his gut clench with longing for a home he would never know. 

It smelled nothing like the gardenia- and jasmine drenched perfumes of the women who so frequently provided him with both solace and sustenance. This was the sweet soap and rosemary smell of a young woman’s skin--innocence and allure mingled into an intoxicating brew. It was the scent of a girl’s silky dark curls brushing his cheek as she leaned across him to turn the pages of his pianoforte music before favoring him with a mischievous smile. 

As he had so many times before, Taehyung forced himself to ruthlessly banish the image. Flipping the coin to the opposite hand, he sauntered through the falling night. He might not be able to afford more than a single hand of cards, but perhaps he could coax some pretty bit of muslin into taking pity on him. 

Turning the collar of his greatcoat to ward off the icy flecks of snow, he crossed the street and ducked into one of the Sensorica gambling hells disreputable enough to welcome even the likes of him. 

\- - - - - 

Taehyung did have the luck of the devil. Less than two hours later, he was sitting behind a fat pile of winnings at the brag table. Employing a lethal mix of charm, guile, and skill, he’d managed to parlay that single shilling into a shimmering heap of coins and pound notes. It might not be enough to stave off Hoseok and his threats of debtor’s prison for more than a day, but it was enough to ensure that he wouldn’t be spending the night alone. 

Or hungry.

He gently rubbed the lower back of the dark haired, sloe-eyed beauty perched on his knee, earning a jealous look from the golden haired minx who had draped herself over his shoulders like an ermine stole. Every time he turned his head, he was nearly overcome by the stench of the cheap lavender water she had used to wash away the scent of the last gambler she had accompanied upstairs. 

While the other three men at the table watched, unable to hide their hopeful expressions, his pale flingers flicked over the cards with negligent grace, fanning them out to reveal yet another winning hand. 

One of the men groaned while another tossed down his cards in disgust. “Damn it all, Kim! Your luck is positively supernatural!” 

“So they tell me,” Taehyung murmured as the men snatched up their beaver top hats and walking sticks and quit the table, leaving more than a week’s wages behind them. 

Absently stroking the brunette’s rounded hip, Taehyung settled back in his chair and stretched out his long legs. Peering through the haze of cigar and cheroot smoke, he searched for his next victims. Most of the club’s patrons had exhausted their welcomes--and their credit--at the more reputable establishments. A palpable air of desperation clung to them, similar to what Taehyung had witnessed in hashish and opium dens. Their fingers twitched and their eyes gleamed as they waited for the next play. It shouldn’t prove too difficult to lure a pair of overextended merchants and the bastard son of some impoverished nobleman into his snare. 

“Why don’t you quit the cards and play with me for awhile, guv’nor?” the brunette crooned, wiggling deeper into the cup of his lap. 

The blonde leaned over his shoulder to pour him a fresh glass of port from the half empty bottle on the table. She batted her fawn colored lashes at him, pressing her ample breasts against the muscled contours of his upper arm. “If you play your cards right, love, you can win the both us for the night.” 

Taehyung shifted in his chair. Their efforts were undeniably...stirring, but he wasn’t quite ready to abandon the table. “Patience, my sweets.” he said. “At the moment, luck is my only mistress, and I’ll be damned if I’ll leave her to a cold and empty bed when she’s still warm and willing.” While the blonde gave his earlobe a nip of protest, he soothed the brunette’s pout by planting a lingering kiss on her rouged lips. 

Someone cleared their throat. 

There was such a stinging note of disapproval in the sound that Taehyung barely resisted the urge to jerk to attention like a guilty schoolboy caught at some mischief. He slowly lifted his head to find a woman standing just behind the chair directly across from him. 

No, not a woman, but a lady, he corrected himself, his gaze sweeping from the burgundy of her mink trimmed velvet pelisse to the feathered bonnet perched atop her upswept coils of gleaming sable hair. A bulging satin reticule dangled from her arm, the pouch’s ribbons drawn tightly closed over its mouth. The exquisite cut and quality of her garments presented a startling contrast to the shabby finery of most of the club’s patrons. A glowing halo seemed to surround her, separating her from the cigar smoke and raucous laughter that filled the room. From the corner of his eye, Taehyung could see her already garnering other glances--some curious, some wary, others openly predatory. 

They’d seen her kind here before. Wealthy ladies with an insatiable appetite for deep play. Since the fair sex wasn’t even allowed in the more reputable clubs that their husbands frequented, they were forced to seek their satisfaction in hells such as this. They were so in thrall to the thrill of the game that they were willing to risk their reputations and their fortunes on one flickle roll of the dice or turn of a card. 

More often than not, a lady would play until every last coin of her blunt was gone, leaving her with only one way to pay off her debts. For some reason, Taehyung couldn’t bear the thought of this woman being forced to accompany some gloating gambler to one of the rooms upstairs. Couldn’t stomach the image of her being shoved to her knees and stripped of that ridiculous bonnet by his fumbling hands. 

The net veil atted to its sweeping brim shadowed her eyes and gave her an irresistible aura of mystery. All he could see was the curve of a dimpled cheek, a pointed chin that boded a heart shaped face, and a pair of lush lips perfectly fashioned for kissing and other even more illicit pleasures. 

With some difficulty, he tugged his gaze away from her mouth only to have it settle on the burgundy velvet ribbon she wore around her throat as a choker; her long, graceful throat where a pulse, nearly invisible to the naked eye, danced to each throbbing beat of her heart. Taehyung jerked his hungry gaze away before he could betray himself. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a deep swallow of the port, knowing it to be a pale substitute for what he craved. 

“Might I have a word with you?” she asked, her voice low and rich. 

He flicked a lazy glance her way, but before he could respond, the brunette snapped. “You out to address him as sir! He’s a knight, he is knighted by the king himself. A real hero!”

“My hero!” the blonde purred, slipping a hand into the open throat of his shirt and raking her crimson nails down his exposed chest. 

Those lovely lips tightened with distaste. Or some other emotion Taehyung couldn’t read. 

“Very well...sir. I was wondering if I might have a word with you.” she repeated. Her scornful tone dismissing his companions. “In private.”

It was the most intriguing proposition he’d received all night. She must be seeking more than just the thrill of the game. He’d encountered her kind before as well, in nearly every city around the world. Women possessed of a hunger as unholy as his own. Women who recognized and deliberately sought out creatures like him, courting danger and death as if they were the most accomplished of lovers. 

Silently cursing the ghost of his scruples, he said, “I’m afraid I can’t help you, miss. As you can see, my attentions are already”--he slid his hand from the brunette’s hip to the rounded curve of her thigh--”occupied.”

“You’d be best to scurry back to your fine carriage, my lady.” the brunette said. “A great wolf like this one would gobble you down in one bite.” 

The golden haired wench looped her arms around his neck. “He needs a woman, not a lady.”

“Or two women.” the brunette countered, earning a throaty laugh from her companion. 

Taking another sip of the port to quench his regret, Taehyung waited for the woman to turn and flee into the night. 

Instead, those lush lips curved into the sweetest of smiles. “I hate to deprive you of such scintillating company, but I really must insist.” 

Taehyung glanced around the club, keenly aware that their exchange was beginning to garner more than casual interest. “This is no place for a woman like you. Why don’t you go home before your husband wakes up and realizes you’ve crept out of his bed?” He arched the dark wing of one brow before leveling his iciest look at her, the one that had been known to freeze grown men in their tracks. “If you linger, I’m afraid you’ll end up with nothing but regrets.” 

She lifted her chin, her smile fading. “Are you threatening me, sir?” 

“If you’d like, you can take it as a warning.” 

“And if I don’t choose to heed your warning?” 

“Then you’re a bloody little fool.” he said, making no apology for his crude language. 

“I’m not leaving until I get what I came here for. You owe me and I’ve come to collect.” Revealing the tiniest crack in her composure, she reached up with trembling hands and drew off her bonnet. 

For one fleeting second, Taehyung was almost thankful he was a vampire because it took a supernatural effort to keep his features schooled in indifference. She was, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The sable curls piled atop her head were matched by the graceful arch of her brows and impossibly thick lashes that ringed eyes the same dark blue as the Aegean Sea at midnight. The delicate bones of her face were narrow at the chin and broad at the cheek. Those cheeks were blessed with a hint of natural color, as if someone had taken a rose petal and lightly dusted it over her satiny skin. She possessed a natural sophistication that all of the expensive powers and rogues in the world couldn’t duplicate. Her mouth tilted upward slightly at the corners, just enough to make a man wonder if she was laughing with him or at him. 

And all Taehyung could think as he faced this paragon of feminine beauty was that he wished she had put her damned hat back on. Without the veil to hide her eyes, her gaze was too frank. Too challenging. Too blue. Desperate to escape her presence for reasons even he couldn’t fathom, he surged to his feet, nearly dumping the sputtering brunette onto the floor. 

He swirled the last of the port around the bottom of the glass before bringing it to his lips. “You can’t be one of my creditors, my dear, because I’m sure I’d remember dunning someone as lovely as you.” he said giving the word an inflection that was impossible to ignore. “And if you’re not one of my creditors, then I suggest you step out of my way because I don’t owe you so much as the time of day.” 

Returned the glass to the table with a forceful thump, he claimed the brunette’s hand and took a step toward the stairs. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Kim.” your fingers steady this time, you reached up, jerked off the velvet choker and tossed on the table as if it were a wager he could never hope to answer. 

Taehyung froze in his tracks, mesmerized by the sight of that graceful throat. A throat that should have been as creamy and flawless as the rest of you, but was instead marred by the faded scared of two distinct puncture wounds. As Taehyung lifted his disbelieving gaze to meet the definiteness of your eyes, he knew his luck had finally run out. 

\- - - - - 

_ He hadn’t recognized you.  _

Kim Taehyung had looked right at you with the same burning dark eyes that had haunted your dreams for the past five years and betrayed nothing more than the faintest flicker of interest. Or was it annoyance?

Apparently your time together had meant so little to him that he barely remembered you. And why should he? You thought. In the years since he had been gone, he had probably had dozens--you stole a bitter glance at the blowsy brunette still clinging to his hand--no, hordes of other women only too eager to help erase you from his memory. Why should he remember one awkward eighteen year old girl who had blushed and stammered and practically thrown herself at him every time he sauntered into a room?

As the initial rush of hurt passed, you had to fight the urge to fly into a towering rage. Despite your boast to Jin that you were no longer a child, you wanted nothing more than to toss your lovely bonnet to the floor and jump up and down on it. 

“Bright eyes?” Taehyung whispered, his handsome face a gratifying study in shock and confusion. 

“Don’t call me that!” you snapped, suddenly despising the endearment. If he tried to tweak your nose, you were going to bite his fingers. 

He cast a desperate glance around them, as if becoming aware of the squalor of your surroundings for the very first time. “What in the name of God are you doing in a hell like this?” 

“Where better to look for a missing devil?” you retorted. 

You were beginning to attract an audience. Several of the seedier looking men were already edging nearer, almost as if they scented blood in the air. 

“If the lady is lookin’ for a game,” called out a hulking chap with a red veined nose and hands as meaty as hams, “I’m ready to play.”

“Big Jimmy is always ready,” someone else shouted, nudging the man next to him. “That’s how he ended up with twelve brats and only two of them on his poor wife.” 

Raucous laughter greeted his words, but there was no mistaking its ugly undertone. As Taehyung dropped the brunette’s hand and advanced toward you, you took a step backward, feeling a tiny thrill of alarm. 

It seemed you had finally succeeded in getting his attention. 

His stride was as smooth and lethal as any predators. Before you could protest, he had seized your hand in a crushing grip. 

“Ow!” you muttered, trying to twist away. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled under his breath, gentling his grip but refusing to yield his claim on your hand. “Sometimes I forget my own strength.” 

That strength was in full evidence as he swung you around as gracefully as if you were waltzing across a ballroom floor and tucked you back against his broad chest. As you faced the group of men who seemed to be rapidly devolving into a pack, Taehyung called out, “I’m afraid she’s not looking for a game, lads. She’s looking for me.” He closed his hands gently over your shoulders and nuzzled your hair, his melodic baritone striking a pitch perfect note between rakish and sheepish. “And she’s no lady. She’s my wife.” 

Sympathetic groans rippled through the crowd. It obviously wasn’t the first time an irate wife had marched into the club to drag her husband home. The men gazed at you with new respect, some of them even reaching up to doff their caps. But you were distracted from all of that by the disconcerting tickle of Taehyung’s nose grazing your earlobe. You would have almost sworn he was sniffing you. 

Determined to prove you weren’t quite as helpless--or as witless--as he believed you to be, you resisted the urge to stomp on his instep and twisted around to give him a dazzling smile instead. “When I awoke to find you gone from my bed, I couldn’t help but worry, darling.” You patted the ruffled shirt front peeping out from the deep V of his waistcoat. “I know you promised me your pox was all healed up, but you can never be too careful with those weeping sores.” 

The men’s groans were even more sympathetic this time. The brunette gasped in outrage, then seized the sputtering blonde’s hand. Both of the women went flouncing toward the stairs, shooting Taehyung disgusted looks over their shoulders. 

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed on your face even as he slid one arm around your waist, drawing the lower half of your body flush against his. Keenly aware of the dangerously snug cut of his trousers, you tried to wiggle an inch of distance between you, but your struggles only deepened his smirk. 

“Your concern is most touching, my love.” he said. “And how fortuitous that you should appear just as I was beginning to wonder where my next meal was coming from.” 

His lips parted, giving you a teasing glimpse of his fangs. Fangs that only lengthened and sharpened when he was hungry. Or aroused. You swallowed. Perhaps you had been unwise to bait him. If Seokjin and your eldest sister were right and he had given up on the search for his soul, he was nothing more to you now than a dangerous stranger. And you were nothing more to him than a particularly juicy morsel. 

She forced herself to give his chest another wifely pat, keenly aware of the rock hard muscles beneath your gloved hand. “If you wish to play another hand of cards, sweeting, I’ll hurry home and rouse the maid from her bed to fix you a midnight supper.” 

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a knowing smile. “Nonsense, pet. I do believe you’ve roused an appetite that only you can satisfy.” His long, sooty lashes swept downward as he leaned toward you. Too late, you realized that he had no intention of tweaking your nose. 

You opened your mouth to protest but his lips were already there, sweeping over yours like molten velvet. The shock was so great that you might have jerked away were it not for the powerful hand that glided up your nape, the strong, sure fingers that wound their way through your upswept curls until you were bound to him as any slave girl to her master. 

Tugging your head gently backward, he laid waste to your inhibitions with devastating finesse. He brushed his lips back and forth across yours, then gently licked his way into your mouth, ravishing and seducing with each lazy stroke of his tongue. He kissed like a creature with an eternity to devote to her pleasure. He kissed like a vampire. 

You clung to his waistcoat, but you could still feel yourself falling, tumbling into some dark abyss where only he and the tantalizing promise of his kiss existed. You could barely hear the ribald hoots and catcalls of the hell's patrons through the roaring in your ears. 

You might have been content to throw yourself into that abyss, never to emerge, if not for the sudden sting on the inside of your bottom lip. You didn’t realize you had been nicked by one of Taehyung’s fangs until you tasted the metallic tang of blood in your mouth. He tasted it, too. His sharply withdrawn breath that wasn’t actually a breath at all threatened to suck the remaining air from your lungs. He jerked away from you as if you had been the one to bite him. 

His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated. Although he didn’t move a muscle, his entire body seemed to be vibrating with some sort of primitive hunger. 

You touched a trembling hand to your lips. Your white glove came away smudged with a single droplet of blood. Taehyung closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were as hard and opaque as black quartz. 

One of the men cleared his throat, then jerked a shoulder toward the stairs. “You and your lady can rent one of the rooms upstairs for a shilling or two.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” Taehyung said smoothly, gathering you back into his arms as if you were the most loving of spouses. “I’ve discovered that anything worth having, including your wife, is worth waiting for.” 

To the appreciative chuckles from the crowd, he laid claim to his winnings, including your velvet choker, and wrapped his coat around your shoulders. Before you could utter so much as a token protest, he had swept you out of te gambling hell and into the night. 

\- - - - - - 

Driven forward by Taehyung’s possessive grip on your elbow, you struggled to hold on to your bonnet and reticule and match his long strides. 

His good natured veneer of charm had vanished, leaving his jaw stern and his profile impenetrable. You could not stop stealing curious glances at that profile. Despite the excesses of wine and women you had witnessed in the gambling hell, dissipation hadn’t left a single scar on his face. His strong aquiline nose, the sensual cut of his full lips, and his chin possessed the same Byronic beauty you remembered only too well. Byron had been moldering in his crypt for nearly two years now, the victim of a mysterious fever and his own excesses, but thanks to the vampire who had stolen his soul Taehyung remained frozen forever in the first potent flush of manhood. 

The snow had finally stopped. The muted glow of the streetlamps veiled his eyes and cast sinister shadows beneath his high cheekbones. 

“Where are you taking me?” you demanded. 

“To your carriage.” 

“I don’t have a carriage. It was rented and the driver refused to linger in this neighborhood after dark.” 

“Which would make him far more intelligent than you, would it not?”

“You can insult me all you like, but I have no intention of storming off in a huff.” 

“Then I’ll take you where you belong,” he said shortly. “Home. 

You dug in your heels, bringing you both to an abrupt halt. “I can’t let you do that.” 

He swung around to face you. “Why not?” 

You opened your mouth, but hesitated a heartbeat too long. 

He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. I’m probably no longer welcome in my brother’s household. After all, what father in his right mind would want me lurking around his helpless child? He snorted. “Seokjin would probably run me through with of sister’s parasols before I could open my arms and and croon, ‘Come here, Katherine, and meet your Uncle Taehyung. My what a pretty little neck you have!’”

“So you did get the letter she sent when Katherine was born!” you said accusingly, “Why didn’t you reply?” 

He shrugged. “Perhaps I did. You know the post can be notoriously unreliable.” 

You narrowed your eyes, suspecting that it wasn’t the post that was notorious or unreliable. “Well, it was quite thoughtless of you to leave us wondering about your whereabouts for so long. For all we knew, you could have been---”

“Undead?” he offered when you hesitated. In response to your chiding glance, he sighed. “If you won’t let allow me to escort you home, then how would you suggest I dispose of you? Should I just drop you off at the next gambling hell we come to?” 

You slipped on your bonnet and knotted its satin ribbons in a jaunty bow beneath your chin, knowing you would need all of the courage it could provide. “I was hoping I could accompany you to your lodgings.” 

All traces of humor vanished from Taehyung’s face, leaving it as cool and polished as a mask. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that would be advisable. Since you found your way here, I’m going to assume that you’ll be equally adept at finding your way home.” he sketched you a crisp bow. “Good night, Miss y/l/n. Give my brother and his family my fondest regards.” 

He turned and started to stride away as if he had every intention of leaving you standing all alone on that street corner, still wrapped in the warm tobacco--and--spice scented folds of his coat. 

“If you won’t take me to your lodgings,” you called after him. “I’ll simply follow you.” 

Taehyung swung around. As he came striding back toward you, his face set in ruthless lines, you had to resist the overwhelming urge to stumbling backward. 

He stopped a scant foot from you, his dark eyes blazing. “First you come barging into the seediest of gambling hells like you’re bloody Queen Elizabeth. Then you volunteer to accompany a man like me--no, a monster like me--to his lodgings? Have you no care for your reputation, woman? For your very life?” 

“It’s not my life that concerns me at the moment, it’s yours.” 

“I don’t have a life, sweetheart. Only an existence.”

“Which could be rapidly drawing to an end if you don’t at least listen to what I have to say.”

He swore in fluent Korean. You lifted your chin, refusing to blush. You had heard far more colorful oaths from Seokjin’s lips, most of those in English. 

A man went stumbling past you, reeking of unwashed flesh and cheap gin. As the stranger’s greedy gaze raked over the ample swell of your breasts, Taehyung bared his teeth and growled, the primal sound lifting every hair on your nape. The man lurched into a clumsy trot, barely missing a lamppost as he cast a terrified glance over his shoulder. 

“It appears I’m not the only beast prowling the streets of Sensorica tonight,” Taehyung stroked his chin, visibly struggling with your demand. “Very well.” he finally bit off. “If you insist, I’ll take you to my lodgings. But only if you promise you’ll leave me to rest in peace once you’ve had your way and your say.” without waiting for your pledge, he offered you his arm. 

Still haunted by the echo of that growl, you hesitated for the briefest second before resting your gloved hand in the crook of his arm. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of Kim Taehyung visual for this series is when he had Blonde mullet era and there is a fan-made video that still makes me feel attacked every time I watch it with blonde mullet tae. Only I made his hair slightly longer because DAENG! HE IS SO HOT!

To your surprise the rickety stairs leading to Taehyung’s rented lodgings deep in the heart of the Strand led up instead of down. You had expected to find him inhabiting some luxurious cellar flat, much like his secret chamber in the dungeon of Kim Castle, him and Seokjin’s boyhood home. 

That chamber had been draped in cashmere and Chinese silk and adorned with furniture, numerous busts and paintings, and a marble chess set where he could while away the daylight hours when he wasn’t sleeping in the ornate wooden coffin that dominated the room Taehyung had always been a vampire who prized his comforts, creature and otherwise. 

Which was why it was such a shock to your sensibilities when he swept open the door at the top of the shadowy staircase to reveal a narrow, low ceilinged room that was little more than a garret. The room was furnished with a battered armoire, a shabby wing chair, and a scarred table flanked by two ladder back chairs, all carved from the cheapest of pines. A lamp burned low on the table, sending shadows creeping over the peeling paint on the walls. If not for the sheets of thick black crepe draped over the dormer windows, no one would have guessed that there was a vampire in the residence. 

In lieu of a coffin, a sagging cast iron bedstead slumped in one corner. You accepted Taehyung’s unspoken invitation to precede him into the room, averting your eyes from its rumpled bedclothes. As you turned to face him, he closed the door and leaned his back against it, surveying you through heavy lidded eyes. “So little Y/N Y/L/N is all grown up.” 

Warned by the wary edge in his voice that he was none too pleased by the notion, you shrugged. “It was bound to happen. I couldn’t stay a naive young girl besotted with Byron’s poetry forever.” 

“More’s the pity.” Taehyung muttered. Abandoning his post by the door, he brushed past you to get to the table. After blowing the dust out of a pair of mismatched goblets, he poured two drinks from the amber bottle resting next to them. He offered you one of them, his long, elegant fingers cradling the bowl of the goblet. 

You took it and brought it to your nose, eyeing him suspiciously as you sniffed at the ruby red liquid. 

“Don’t worry, it’s only port.” he assured you, a spark of amusement lighting his eyes. “And cheap port at that. But it’s all I can afford at the moment.” 

You took a tentative sip of the musky wine. “Just how much have you had to drink tonight?” 

“Not nearly enough,” he said, leaning against the table and drains his glass in one deep swig. He lifted the empty goblet to you in a mocking toast, “I do hope you’ll forgive my ill temper. You interrupted my evening meal and I tend to get a bit cranky when I’m hungry.” 

You choked on the port, your eyes widening in horror. “Those women back there at the g-gambling hell? You were going to...eat them?” 

He opened his mouth, then evidently thought better of what he was about to say and closed it again. “If you’re asking me if I was going to kill them, the answer is no. I prefer to think of them as more of a tasty little snack.” 

When your eyes only widened further, he sighed. “There’s only so much rare roast beef and butcher shop blood a vampire can stomach. As I was traveling the world in the past few years, I made a fascinating discovery. It seems that wherever I go, there are always women willing--no eager--to offer me a little sip of themselves. I take just what I need to survive, and in return..I make sure they get what they need.” His jaded gaze flicked over the pale scars on your throat. “Since you were the first woman I ever drank from, I suppose I have you to thank for teaching me that lesson.” 

You almost hated him in that moment. Hated him for taking an act born out of desperation and tenderness and trying to turn it into something sordid and dirty. 

As if that wasn’t enough of an affront, he took one step toward you, then another. “I’m not nearly so careless or clumsy as I was with you. I’ve even learned to drink from other places so the scars won’t be so visible.” He lifted one hand to your throat, his fingertips caressing the marks he had left on you with a seductive tenderness that made you shiver. “Did you know there is a particularly juicy little artery on the inside of a woman’s thigh, just below---” 

“Stop it!” you shouted, slapping his hand away. “Stop being so horrible! I know exactly what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.” 

He backed away from you, holding up both hands in mock surrender. “You never did scare easily, did you, bright eyes?” 

He was wrong. You were terrified. Terrified of the way your pulse had raced beneath his fingertips. Terrified of the power his touch still had over you. Terrified you might be no better than those women who were willing and eager to satisfy his cravings as long as he satisfied theirs. 

But he wasn’t the only one who had learned how to bluff in the past few years. You smiled at him, using your dimples to their best advantage. “I hate to wound your legendary vanity, but I have no intention of scurrying out the door just because you say ‘Boo!’ to me.” 

You shrugged off his coat and tossed it toward the bed, removed your bonnet and set it carefully on the table, then began to tug off your gloves one finger at a time. As you slipped out of your pelisse, one of Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up, as if to inquire just what garments you might consider removing next. 

Keeping the ribbons of your reticule looped around your wrist, you settle yourself gingerly on the edge of the wing chair and took another dainty sip of the port. “Your growling and posturing might impress the sort of women you’re accustomed to consorting with, but quite frankly, I find them to be a bit of a bore.” 

The dark wing of Taehyung’s eyebrow shot even higher. “I beg your pardon, Miss Y/L/N. I obviously mistook you for the enchanting child who used to hand on my every syllable with breathless delight.” 

“I’m afraid even the most enchanting of children must someday grow up. I hope it won’t disappoint you to learn that I no longer believe in mermaids, leprechauns, or werewolves.” 

“But you still believe in me.”

You barely managed to hide your start. Had he developed a talent for reading minds along with his other dark gifts? 

“You still believe in the existence of vampires,” he clarified to your keen relief. 

“I haven’t any choice, have I? Not when your brother has spent the last five years driving the worst of them out of Sensorica.” You reply. 

  
“Well, that would explain why they were overrunning the alleys of Daegu.” Scowling, Taehyung poured himself another glass of port and settled one lean hip against the opposite corner of the table. “Seokjin obviously has been neglecting his duties as your guardian. I would have thought he would have had you married off by now to some wealthy viscount or earl who could give you a half dozen babies to keep you in the nursery where you belong.” 

“I’ve been out of the nursery for several years now and I’ve no intention of going back. At least not for a very long while. So tell me,” you said, blinking up at him. “While you were traveling the world learning how to enslave weak willed women with your seductive powers, you didn’t stumble across anything else of interest? Did you? Like for instance, your soul?” 

He rested the goblet on the table, then patted the pockets of his waistcoat, as if the one thing that held the power to restore him to humanity was of no more import than a lost riding glove or a misplaced cravat. “Damn thing’s proved to be devilishly slippery. I haven’t had a single vampire stroll up to me and offer to let me tear out their throat so I can suck my own stolen soul out of them.” 

“So you never even found the vampire who sired Yoongi, the one who inherited your soul after Yoongi was destroyed?” 

“I’m afraid not. Unless they’re feeding, vampires are a notoriously close mouthed lot, even amongst themselves.” he said. 

You frowned. Something in his tone made you suspect that he wasn’t being completely honest. “So you didn’t find your soul, but you did find time to prove yourself a hero on the battlefield?”

He lifted one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “How difficult is it to be a hero when you can’t die? Why shouldn’t I volunteer to lead every charge? Sneak behind enemy lines and rescue every fallen soldier? I had nothing to lose.” 

“Unless the sun came out.” 

His lips slanted in a mocking smile. “It was monsoon season.”

“Since he bestowed a knighthood upon you, I gather the king was more impressed with your efforts than you were.” 

“The dreamers of this world are always looking for a hero, I suppose the king is no different from any other man.” 

“Or woman,” you remarked, meeting his gaze boldly. 

He straightened, folding his arms over his chest. “Perhaps it’s time you told me exactly what you’re looking for, Y/n. Because if it’s a hero, you’ve come to the wrong place.” 

Unnerved by his unblinking stare, you rose from the chair and strolled over to the window. Easing aside the veil of crepe, you peered into the dimly lit alley below. Every shadow seemed to hide some faceless menace, yet none of them was more dangerous to you than the man waiting--not so patiently--for your reply. 

You traded a bracing glance with your reflection in the glass, then let the crepe fall and turned to face him. “I’m looking for a murderer.” 

The grim words hung in the air between you until Taehyung threw his head back with a hearty laugh and said, “Then I suppose you have come to the right place after all, haven’t you?”

** _You felt the blood drain from your face. _ **

“So..so it’s true.” you breathed. Your fingers biting into the sleek satin of your reticule. 

“That I’m a murderer? That I’ve taken human life in order to survive? I hate to crush the last of your girlhood illusions about me, sweetheart, but in that respect I’m no different from any other soldier in His Majesty’s Army.”

You drew in a deep breath to steady your voice. “I wasn’t talking about the battle. I was talking about those women, here in Sensorica.”

The sparkle of amusement in his eyes faded. He frowned. “What women?” 

“The four women who have died since you returned to Sensorica. The four women who were drained of every last drop of their blood by some merciless fiend.”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. He turned away from you, toward the brick fireplace. “Just when did these murders take place?”

“The first was a fortnight ago. Just before Jin received word that you had been spotted in Sensorica. The next two followed shortly thereafter. Then just three nights ago, a fourth woman was found in an alley, her corpse still warm.” 

He gazed into the cold hearth, locking his hands at the small of his back. “Are you absolutely sure they were killed by a vampire?” 

“Beyond any shadow of a doubt.” you informed him, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “And I can assure you that these women were not willing victims eager to surrender themselves to the vampire’s kiss. Their hands were bloody, their fingernails torn. They all fought quite passionately and courageously for their lives.” Although you knew it was madness, you could not seem to stop yourself from creeping closer to him. “Did you do it, Tae? Did you slaughter those poor, helpless creatures?” 

He turned and lifted his dark lashed eyes to you. “You believe me capable of such a crime and yet you sought me out tonight? Why would you be so foolhardy?” 

How could you explain your unshaken faith in him? Your unswerving belief that he would not harm you? Not even when you knew exactly what he was capable of. “I didn’t believe you would hurt me.” 

“I’ve already hurt you.” His heavy lidded gaze flicked to your throat, avoiding your eyes. “You’ve still got the scars to prove it.” 

You touched your fingers to the faded marks to their tingling, wishing you had never surrendered your choker on the gambling table. Without it, you felt exposed. Naked. 

You forced yourself to lower your hand and lift your chin, boldly meeting his gaze. “I came here tonight because I had to make sure that you didn’t kill those women. I’m the one who kept you alive in that crypt all those years ago if you take an innocent life now, then I’m just as responsible as you are.” 

He drew nearer, his shadow falling over you. His voice was husky lullaby, perfectly pitched to lure a woman to either delight or doom. “But what if I did them? What if I stalked them through the night, haunted their every step, just waiting for them to hesitate or stumble so I could make them mine?” Bracing his hands against the window frame behind you, he lowered his head, brushing his cheek against yours. His flesh should have been cold, but it was warm, bruning with an unnatural fever that threatened to incinerate your every defense. As his parted lips grazed the downy flesh behind your ear, a primal shiver that had little to do with fear raked through you. “What’s to stop me from doing the same to you?”

“This,” you whispered, pressing the sharp point of the stake you had just drawn out of your reticle against his heart. 

He went as still as a statue. You expected him to jerk away from you so you could begin to think about breathing again. But he simply spread his arms in surrender, his smile as lethal as a weapon like the stake in your hands. “If you’ve come here to finish me, then let’s have done with it, shall we? My heart, as you well know, bright eyes, has always been yours for the asking. Or staking.” 

As badly as you wanted to believe him, you suspected he had offered that same heart to a multitude of women, only to yanked it out of their hands as soon as they dared to reach for it--or the next morning after they had awakened in his bed, dazed from blood loss but satisfied beyond their wildest dreams. 

“If you were as eager for oblivion as you’d like me to believe,” you replied, “you’d simply take a morning stroll in the sunshine.” 

Despite his crooked smile, Taehyung’s eyes were oddly somber. “Would you mourn me after I was gone? Would you scorn every man who tried to win your heart and squander your youth weeping over my grave?” 

“No,” you retorted sweetly. “But if one of my more ardent suitors should ever give me a cat, I might consider naming it after you.” 

“Perhaps I should leave you with something else to remember me by.” Ignoring the press of the stake against his vulnerable breastbone, he leaned even closer. 

As the seductive scents of port and spice soap and tobacco enveloped you, you felt your lips part and your eyes began to flutter shut against your will. That was all the distraction Taehyung needed. One dizzying blur of movement and he was holding both the stake and your reticule, leaving you empty handed. 

As he backed away from you, taking his seductive fragrance with him, you settled back against the windowsill, blowing a stray curl out of your eyes. “That was a bit unsporting of you, don’t you think?” 

Eyeing you disbelievingly, he held up the stake. “More unsporting than you threatening me with a pointy stick?”

You shrugged, your delicate sniff less than penitent. “A lady has every right to defend herself against unsought advance. And creatures of the night.” 

Apparently, he had no argument for that because he simply rested the stake and reticule on the table and began to root around in the bulging purse. His hand emerged with one of the delicate scent bottles that had become so popular with the young ladies. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t bother with that.” you quickly said as he withdrew the stopper and brought the bottle to his nose. “That’s just my lavender--”

You winced as he recoiled from its contents, baring his teeth in an involuntary grimace. 

He rapped the stopper back into the bottle, shooting you an accusing glare. “Nothing like a dab of holy water behind the ears to stir a young man’s fancy.” 

He gingerly set the bottle aside before reaching back into the reticule. He was rewarded for his successive forays into its silken interior with a miniature stake no larger than a quill pen, a sheathed dagger, three leather garrotes of varying lengths, and an elegant pearl handled lock pistol just large enough to hold a single pistol ball. 

Studying the mini arsenal displayed on the table, Taehyung shook his head. “Prepared for all eventualities, aren’t you, my dear?” 

You didn’t even try to hide your smirk. “You should see what I can do with a hatpin.” 

“You  _ are  _ full of surprises, aren’t you, pet?” His bemused gaze took a languorous journey from the snug bodice of your gown to your dainty little kid boots. “Just what other weapons do you have stashed under there?” 

“Keep your distance and you won’t have to find out.” 

“Am I to assume that my brother has recruited you for his vampire hunting enterprise?” 

You lowered your eyes, “Not exactly. Well, at least not yet.” you amended. “But I believe it’s only a matter of time before he realizes what an asset I can be.” 

Taehyung surveyed you with grudging admiration. “And to think I was worried about what those rogues at the gambling hell might do to you. I should have been worried about what you might do to them.” He trailed his hand down the length of the stake. “Or what you might do to me.”

You jerked your gaze away from the long, elegant fingers wrapped around the smooth shaft of wood, flushing to the roots of your hair. “If I’d have come here tonight to stake you, you’d already be dust.” 

“Or I’d have had some dinner to go along with my wine.” The mocking glitter in his eyes made it impossible to tell if he was teasing you or threatening you. 

You gave him a cheery smile. “If you’re hungry, I’d be more than glad to run down to the butcher’s shop and fetch you some rare roast beef or a nice kidney pie.” 

“I had something a little fresher in mind.” His gaze flirted with your throat again. “Something sweeter.”

Your smile faded. “Is that what you were looking for when you murdered those women?” 

“Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know.” you confessed, turning back to the window and edging aside the crepe to escape his penetrating gaze. 

A lone man was melting out of the shadows that draped the alley below. 

“Oh, no,” you breathed. “It can’t be him. He promised he wasn’t coming until morning.” 

“What is it?” Instantly alert, Taehyung glided up behind you, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck shiver to life. 

He peered over your head, both of you hanging back from the alley below. The imposing shoulders beneath the layered cape of the intruder’s greatcoat were as distinctive as the walking stick gripped in his powerful hand. A walking stick that could be transformed into a deadly stake with nothing more than deft flick of the wrist. 

“My brother is nothing if not predictable,” Taehyung murmured, his smoky voice very close to your ear. “I suspected it would only be a matter of time before he came calling.” 

“This might not be a social call,” you ventured as Jin was joined by the long, lanky, and damningly familiar shadow of a second man. 

Kim Namjoon was a former constable who had been Seokjin’s best friend. The two men had been estranged for years when your eldest sister Corinda came into their lives and brought them together to wreak revenge on Min Yoongi, the vampire who had not only stolen Taehyung’s soul but murdered Seokjin’s first love, Evelyn. Namjoon also just happened to be Jin’s partner in his vampire hunting endeavor--and your other brother-in-law, the doting father of your twin nephews. 

As the two men briefly conferred, then proceeded toward the building, their shadows still hugging the wall, you spun around to face Taehyung, flattening a hand against his chest. “There’s no time to waste. We have to get you out of here right now!” 

He covered your hand with his own, plainly bemused by your urgency. “I’m touched by your concern, darling, but there’s really no need for such high drama. What’s Jin going to do? Give me a stern lecture for failing to write? He knows I’ve always been a wretched correspondent.” 

“I’m afraid he’s not coming here to lecture you.” you informed him grimly. 

“Then what’s he going to do--disown me? Cut me out from my inheritance? Can’t you just see him marching in here in high dudgeon and announcing, ‘You’re no longer my brother! You’re dead to me!’?”

When you failed to so much as crack a smile at his quip, he grew very still. Although his wry smile lingered, it no longer reached the glittering darkness of his eyes. “So my brother’s common sense has finally over his sentimental devotion to brotherly duty.” He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I can hardly blame him, you know. He should have driven the stake through my black heart all those years ago when Yoongi first stole my soul. It would have saved us both a great deal of bother.”

You grabbed his arm and tried to tug him away from the window. “Don’t you see? We have to go! Before it’s too late!” 

He appeared to be on the verge of tweaking your nose. “It’s already too late for me, sweetheart. So why don’t you run along before you earn a lecture from Jin too? There’s no need to fret about me. This is hardly the first torch bearing mob I’ve faced.” 

Hearing a fresh ruckus, you turned back to the window and lifted the crepe again. “I suspect  _ that _ would be the torch bearing mob,” you said, pointing toward the opposite end of the alley. 

A tall man with a narrow nose and an upper lip perpetually curled into a sneer had just come striding into the alley, followed by at least a half dozen scraggly looking henchmen, some of them actually bearing torches. 

“Hoseok!” Taehyung exclaimed, adding an oath as his brother and Namjoon moved to intercept the new arrivals. “I had hoped the idiot would at least allow me one more night of freedom before he had me cast into debtor’s prison.” 

You gave his arm another sharp tug. “Perhaps if he hadn’t caught you making love to his fiance at their betrothal supper, he would have been in a more charitable frame of mind.” 

Taehyung shifted his accusing glare to you. “You were in the part this morning, weren’t you? I knew I smelled you.” He tugged a coil of hair from the mass of curls piled on top of your head and brought it to his nose. His nostrils flared as if he were once again drinking in some elusive scent. 

The scent of his prey. 

Muffled shouting rose from the alley as the men below gave up all pretense of stealth. To your disbelief, Taehyung strolled over and sank down in the wing chair, crossing his long legs at the ankles as if he had no intention of budging for the next century or so. 

“What do you mean to do?” you demanded. “Just sit there and wait for Jin to march up here and stake you?”

He puffed his fingernails on the cuff of his shirt. “If that’s his pleasure.”

“And if Hobi gets to you first?”

“Debtor’s prison won’t be so bad,” he said cheerfully. “It’s always dark and there should be plenty of food.” 

Your frustration finally spilled over into anger. “Is this why you returned to Sensorica? Because your weary of provoking men who can’t kill you into challenging you to duels? Because you knew Jin would eventually find you and do what you don't have the nerve to do?”

In reply he simply gazed at you, as unblinking as an owl or some other far more dangerous nocturnal predator. 

“Have you thought about what will happen to me if I stay?” you asked. “You may be destroyed but I’ll be ruined as well.”

A hint of unease flickered through his eyes. “What are you talking about?” 

“If I’m found here in this rented flat with you,” you replied, daring to give the rumpled bed a provocative glance, “my reputation will never survive.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t seem to give a flying fig about your reputation when you came strolling into that gambling hell just a short while ago.” 

“No one knew me there! But the marquess is a very powerful and influential man. Once he starts spreading the word that Viscount Seokjin’s sister-in-law has been consorting with the viscount’s own brother, a shameless ne’er do well and a notorious libertine---”

“You forgot bloodsucking fiend.” he interjected. 

You continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “--there won’t be any wealthy viscount or earls lining up to ask for my hand. Or any half dozen babes to keep me in the nursery.” you sighed, affecting the same air of tragic resignation you had once used to coax Corinda into buying you a pretty length of ribbon you couldn’t truly afford. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to offer myself as a mistress to some man just like Hoseok the Marquess. I’m sure he’ll be a cruel and exacting master, but perhaps in time, I can learn to please him.” 

Taehyung crossed the room with stunning speed, seizing you by the hand. As he jerked you toward the door, he shot you a smoldering look over his shoulder. “I’m perfectly willing to answer to God for my sins, but I’ll be damned if I’ll allow you to be punished for a crime I haven’t had the pleasure of committing tonight.” 

As Taehyung plunged down the darkened stairwell, his grip on your hand unrelenting, you struggled to keep pace with him. Before you could reach the first landing, a loud thump sound from below. He jerked to a halt, reaching back to steady you before you could slam into him. Over the panicked rasp of your breathing you heard the unmistakable clatter of booted feet on the stairs. You had dallied too long. Your only escape route had been cut off. 

Taehyung whirled around, all but dragging you back up the narrow winding staircase and past the door of his rented room. Up, up, up you went until he finally burst through a sagging wooden door and onto the roof. 

A blast of icy air whipped the heavy coils of your hair from its pins, reminding you that you had left your bonnet, pelisse, and all of your weapons in his room, leaving you at the mercy of both the elements and him. Yet instead of fear, a strange rush of exhilaration coursed through your veins. 

A thin blanket of snow clung to the chimney pots and gables. Glittering flakes danced in the fitful moonlight, tossed about by the whims of the wind. Although you had sworn to him that you had forsaken all of your childhood fancies, you could not help but feel as if you had stumbled onto some enchanted fairy kingdom, both beautiful and dangerous. 

When you were a child, you had believed such a kingdom would be ruled by a golden haired prince who would rescue you from every threat. Yet here you were racing hand in hand through the night with a dark prince who was just as likely to bring destruction as deliverance. 

The both of you stumbled to a halt at the very edge of the roof. With the snow cloaking the grime and soot, the city stretched out before you like the frosted parapets of a vast castle, the next rooftop an impossible leap away. 

The furious shouts and thunder of footsteps swelled. In a matter of seconds, Taehyung’s pursuers would be upon you. 

Teetering in his arms on the edge of that yawning precipice, a nervous chuckle bubbled up in your throat. “For years Jin has been hearing rumors about vampires who possess the concentration to turn themselves into bats. It’s a pity you’re not one of them.” 

As a helpless shiver wracked you, Taehyung drew you into his arms, using his body to shelter you from the wind. He smoothed your hair out of your eyes, his gaze fierce. “Tell them you came looking for me, but I was already gone. That I fled Sensorica to avoid Hoseok’s wrath and I’ll not trouble any of them again. Tell them you came here to convince me to come home. Because you knew how my estrangement from Jin was affecting your sister and the rest of the family. You won’t be able to fool Jin but Hobi will believe you. You can be a very convincing actress when you want to be.”

You opened your mouth to protest, then closed it, realizing that there was no point. “But where will you go? How…” you trailed off, gesturing toward the starry expanse of the night sky. 

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a rueful smile. “Before Jin destroyed him, Yoongi gave me one sound piece of advice. He told me I’d be a fool not to embrace my dark gifts.” 

As if to share the darkest and most priceless of those gifts, he bent his head to yours. There, with the snow and starlight swirling around you, with disaster bearing down upon you on booted feet, he kissed you. 

This was no seductive foray artfully designed to maximize your pleasure. 

This time he took what  _ he _ wanted. 

What  _ he _ craved. 

His tongue swept through your mouth, claiming it, claiming  _ you _ , with a passion and power that threatened to rip the soul right out of you. Even if you’d had a stake in one hand and a pistol in the other, you couldn’t defend yourself against such an onslaught of passion. Nor would you have wanted to. 

Taehyung groaned and you clung to the front of his waistcoat, answering that siren call with a deep throated moan in a voice you no longer recognized as your own. That moan turned to one of helpless dismay as he dragged his mouth from yours and gently set you away from him. 

Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see him turn and dive straight over the side of the roof. Before the scream caught in your throat could erupt, he had vanished into thin air. A dark shape went soaring past the roof, hurtling into the night sky. You stood there with you mouth hanging open, watching as it wheeled in a graceful circle, then went flapping away toward the sickle thin crescent of the moon. 

Shaking off your shock, you cupped your hands around your mouth and shouted, “Don’t eat anyone!” 

It might have been nothing more than a trick of the wind but you would have almost sworn you heard Taehyung’s rich baritone float back to you on a note ripe with laughter. “Don’t nag!” 

Then the door behind you came crashing open and there was nothing left for you to do but turn around and face the torch bearing mob and your brother-in-law’s thunderous brow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looooorrrrrdddd I'm trying to be discreet with the feelings but you can see it if you squint your eyes. HIM AND HER BOTH JEEBUS...


	5. Chapter 4

“** _What do I have to do to keep you safe from him? _ **Lock you away in a convent? At least he wouldn’t be able to set foot on holy ground.” Jin was once again wearing a fresh path in the elegant Audubon carpet that ran the length of his drawing room. Judging from the shadows beneath his eyes and the fact that he still wore his rumpled trousers, shirt, and waistcoat from the night before, he didn’t appear to have slept so much as a wink since bringing you home. 

“Perhaps we should see if our Cousin is still in the market for a bride,” your eldest sister Corinda offered, referring to the toad-like lech who had once offered to beat the spirit out of you with his fists. 

Both Seokjin and yourself turned to gape in horror. When she blinked innocently at you and added, “Or Aunt Marie might be in need of a companion,” you realized she was only jesting. She sat on the brocaded sofa with Katherine perched on her knee. The honey haired toddler appeared to be in imminent danger of swallowing the wildly expensive pearls Jin had given Rindy for their third anniversary. 

Watery afternoon sunlight sifted through the tall arched windows of the spacious room. You had managed to postpone this discussion for several hours, first by feigning a swoon in the carriage on the way home, then by pleading tearful exhaustion when Jin had delivered you to Corinda’s waiting arms. Unfortunately, your strategy had backfired. The delay had only given Jin time to summon the rest of the family to witness your disgrace. 

Your other sister, Victoria, sat in the leather wing chair near the hearth, keeping one watchful eye on the four year old twins playing at wooden soldiers before the cozy fire. Not even giving birth to two budding hellions at once had seemed to ruffle her legendary composure. According to family legend, when the midwife had handed her the second baby, she had simply murmured, ‘Oh, my! Would you look at that?” while her stoic husband had crumpled to the carpet in a dead faint. 

Kim Namjoon, whom they all addressed as simply “Joon” or “Namjoon” in a nod to his former career as a constable, perched on the arm of his wife’s chair. Every few minutes, he would reach over to absently stroked her hair. Given his stern lips and hawk nose, there were some who might have wondered how such a plain man had managed to capture the heart of a beauty like your sister Victoria. Until they saw the way his shrewd brown eyes lit up every time he looked at her. 

You had dressed for your dressing down in somber green morning gown that you hoped would make you look suitably penitent. A matching velvet choker adored your throat. You sat on your favorite ottoman with your hands folded demurely in your lap, watching Jin resume his pacing. 

“Taehyung is my brother,” he reminded you. “You should have trusted me to take care of the situation, not gone off on some misbegotten mission of your own.” 

“I trust you to take care of the situation. That’s precisely what I was worried about.”

He swung around to face you. “Did you really believe I was going to stake my baby brother through the heart without so much as a polite by-your-leave?”

“Jin..the children.” Corinda reminded him touching a finger to her lips. 

Shooting her a frustrated glance, Jin strode over to the tasseled bell pull in the corner and gave it a hard yank. After what seemed like an eternity, their butler Jimin came shuffling into the drawing room. 

“Jimin, my dear.” Corinda said. “Would you mind taking the children and keeping them occupied for a bit?” 

He nodded with frigid politeness. “The culmination of a lifelong dream I had nearly abandoned in favor of waiting peacefully for the Grim Reaper to come and relieve me of my earthly duties.” 

Immune to his sarcasm, your eldest sister Corinda beamed fondly at him. “Thank you Jimin. I thought that’s what you would say.” 

Shuffling toward the hearth, Jimin muttered under his breath. “I just love children, you know. I simply dote upon the overindulged little darlings with their grasping little hands and their sticky fingers that foul up every freshly polished surface in the house.” As he leaned toward the hearth, the twins paused in their play to look up at him. Baring them a smile, he said, “Come now, lads. I’ll take you to the kitchen for some nice hot cocoa.”

Eyes widening in terror, the two boys leapt to their feet and ran shrieking from the room. Jimin straightened and rolled his eyes. 

“Jimminnie!” Katherine crowed, scrambling down from her mother’s lap and toddling across the room. Wrapping her arms around his legs, she looked up at him and batted her long lashes at him. “Me want cocoa!” 

With a long suffering sigh, he scooped the plump child into his arms. She joyfully tugged on his ears as he carried her toward the door. His expression never varied, but as he passed you, he gave you a nearly imperceptible wink. 

You bit back a smile, hearted to know you had at least one ally in this house. Jimin had always been partial to Taehyung. After Yoongi had turned Taehyung into a vampire, Jimin had the only one to share the brothers’ dark secret, helping Seokjin turn Taehyung’s crypt in the dungeon of their ancestral castle into a chamber fit for a prince. He had forever endeared himself to you by guarding the door of the mansion’s ballroom while you practiced wielding a stake and firing a crossbow instead of dancing and conjugating verbs. He had also swept up the shards of the numerous vases and busts you had broken with only a mutter of reproach. 

Seokjin waited until his daughter was safely out of earshot before returning his attention to you. “I suppose I have only myself to blame. I should have known that no good would ever come of this infatuation of yours.” 

“There’s no longer any need for you to worry about that,” you replied primly even as the memory of Taehyung’s kisses made both your throat and your lips tingle. “You were right all along. Taehyung is neither the man---or the vampire--- I remembered.” You lowered your head, deliberately avoiding your eldest’s sisters gaze. Although you and Victoria were close in age, it was her who had always been able to read your heart. 

“What exactly did he say when you confronted him about the murders?” Namjoon leaned forward, no longer able to keep his natural curiosity in check. “Did he deny any knowledge of them or did he confess?” 

He had done neither, you remembered grimly. Which meant that he was deliberately hiding something. But who was he trying to protect? Himself? Or someone else? 

Although you loathed lying to your family, you met Namjoon’s clear eyed gaze with one of your own. “I never had the chance to ask him. I’m afraid your impromptu little witch hunt interrupted my interrogation.” 

Namjoon settled back on the chair arm, his disappointment palpable. Victoria patted his knee and smiled at you. “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. The only thing that matters is that our Y/N is back with us--safe and sound.”

“I’d like for you to stay that way.” Seokjin countered towards you. “But I can’t count on that as long as Taehyung is lurking about.” 

  
“He told me he was leaving Sensorica.” You said softly. “That he wouldn’t...trouble any of us again.”

A shadow of grief passed over Seokjin’s face, making your own heart clutch with regret. You had no way of knowing if Taehyung had spoken the truth or if his words had just been a clever ruse to throw them off of his scent. You hadn’t even dared to tell Jin how he had made his escape, preferring to let them all believe he had used his superior strength to climb down one of the roof’’s drain spouts. In all of their battles, none of them had ever encountered a vampire to shape shift into a bat. If Jin knew his brother possessed that rare gift, he might consider him even more of a threat. 

Jin surprised you by sinking down heavily on the edge of the ottoman and running a hand over his unshaven jaw. “I know you probably think I’m overreacting, but when I saw you standing on the edge of that roof with your face so pale and your hair all atumble…”

“You believed the worst,” you finished for him.

He nodded. “I was afraid he had drank from you again. That he had come one step closer to killing you, or worse yet, stealing your soul.” 

Knowing it wasn’t your soul in jeopardy, but your heart, you looped an arm through his and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry I gave you such a fright. What I told Hoseok was partially true. I just wanted to bring him home. For you.”

There was no guile in the gaze you swept over your family. “For all of us.” 

Jin stood, tugging you to your feet and pressing a gentle kiss to your brow. “Victoria is right. For now the only thing that matters is that you’re home and safe. We’ll worry about the rest of it later.”

As he moved toward the door, Victoria rose with a graceful swish of her skirt. “Come darling,” she told her husband. “We best go rescue the boys from Jimin’s clutches before we find them in a cookpot somewhere.” 

“Didn’t they lock poor Jimin in the cupboard the last time we left them alone with him?” Namjoon asked. 

“No, that was the time before. The last time he locked _ them _ in the broom closet.” she replied as they followed Jin from the drawing room. 

Only your eldest sister remained seated, gazing thoughtfully into the dancing flames of the fire. You were inching toward the door when your sister said, “Not so fast, pet.” 

Your eyes widened in a look of studied innocence. “Did you say something?” 

Your sister patted the sofa next to her, her smile equally innocent. “Why don’t you join me for a little chat?” 

You reluctantly complied, sinking down on the sofa but maintaining your stony silence. 

“You know,” she began, toying with the monogrammed handkerchief in her lap. “I’ve been dying of curiosity, but in all these years, I never once pressed you to tell me what happened in that crypt with Taehyung.” 

You couldn’t quite hide your guilty start. You had assumed your sister was going to question you about the events of last night, not the events of six years ago. “I always did admire your restraint. It was very unlike you.”

“I suppose it was easier for all of us to just pretend it had never happened, wasn’t it?” your sister’s eyes searched your face. “But I never stopped wondering if Taehyung took more from you in that crypt than just your blood. If that might not explain your lingering feelings for him. Your obvious reluctance to marry.” 

You could keep your voice deliberately light but you couldn’t stop the heavy rush of blood to your cheeks. You studied your own hands, wishing for a handkerchief to wring. “If that’s what you suspected, why didn’t you send for a physician to examine me?” 

“Jin suggested it, but I refused to subject you to such an indignity. In truth, we both believed you’d suffered enough at his brother’s hands.” 

Before you could stop it, a brittle laugh bubbled from your lips. “I appreciate your concern, sis, but I can assure you that no woman has ever suffered unduly at Kim Taehyung’s hands.”

“Even now?” she countered, her gaze more probing than before. 

Since you had no answer for that, you simply rose and strode from the drawing room, held your head high and your secrets still your own. 

  


**\- - - - - - - - **

You sat curled up in the window seat of your third story bedchamber that night, watching the lights in the windows of the Georgian style townhouses that lined the other side of the square wink out one by one. Just as a distant church bell tolled a single note, the last lamp in the square surrendered to the darkness, leaving you alone with the moon. 

You pushed open the window, preferring the chill rush of air to the stifling warmth of the fire crackling on your brick hearth. Although carriages had carved muddy ruts through the broad cobbled streets below, snow still frosted the rooftops and the spindly arms of the tree branches, making them glow in the lambent light. A thin mist trailed ghostly fingers through the deserted streets. You drew your woolen shawl tighter over your thin cotton night rail, your hungry gaze searching the night. The sleeping hush of the house made you feel as if you were the only one left awake in all the world. But you knew Taehyung was out there somewhere, a prisoner of the night with all of its dangers and temptations. For all you knew, he might already be in the arms of another woman who could never be anything more to him than his next meal. 

You touched a finger to the plump swell of your bottom lip, remembering the demanding pressure of his mouth on yours. How he had kissed you as if you were both his salvation and his doom. How he had wrapped you in his arms so tightly that even the furious lash of the wind couldn’t tear you apart. 

But in the end, it had. 

You slowly lowered your hand. What if Taehyung’s kiss truly had been a kiss of farewell? What if he went back to wandering the world, exiled from everyone who had ever loved him? What if you never saw him again? Somehow that prospect was even more unbearable than it had been before. In time, you might even come to believe that those moments in his arms had been nothing more than a dream, the feverish delusion of a woman destined to spend your life yearning for a man you could never have. 

The wind moaned through the trees overhanging the courtyard below, sending a shiver dancing over your flesh. You reached to draw the window closed, but after a moment’s hesitation, edged it open even wider. 

“Come home, Taehyung.” you whispered into the night. “Before it’s too late..”

**\- - - - - - - - - **

Taehyung slipped through the window your bedchamber, landing on the balls of his feet with the soundless grace of a cat. He should have been halfway to Daegu by now with a clueless Chubby in tow. 

Instead, he had spent the day huddled in an abandoned warehouse in Sensorica, waiting for the pale winter sun to set. He had crept out just after moonrise, dodging the crowded thoroughfares of the streets where one of Hoseok’s henchmen might still be lying in wait for him. Before he had realized it, his aimless wandering had led him to the alley behind his brother’s mansion. 

He lingered in that alley, drawing back into the shadows when Namjoon emerged to bundle Victoria and a matched pair of chattering little lads into their waiting carriage He watched through a lighted window while Corinda slipped into Jin’s study and then into Jin’s lap, seeking to ease his visible tension with a tender kiss. As the two of them strolled from the room, arm in arm, Taehyung studied his brother’s handsome face, knowing he was responsible for the new lines of strain he found there. Seokjin had always been willing to bear every burden that should have rightfully been Taehyung’s. 

As Jimin made his customary rounds through the house, extinguishing the last of the lamps, Taehyung bided his time. It was easy to be patient when one had an eternity to waste. 

Or so he thought until he crept around to the front of the house and saw you sitting in the window of your bedchamber. You were gazing up at the night sky with your chin cupped in your hand, looking as wistful as a child who had just been told that the man in the moon had departed for sunnier climes. Taehyung knew he should bid you a silent farewell and melt back into the shadows where he belonged. 

He would leave Sensorica. The murders would stop. And if you spend the rest of your life believing the worst of him, wouldn’t that be the best for you? He turned to go. 

_Come home, Taehyung. Before it’s too late. _

Taehyung froze, his keen hearing picked up the echo of your whispered words. His gaze shot back to the window only to find it empty. 

“Please tell me the little girl latched it.” he muttered under his breath. But even from vantage point, he could see that the window stood ajar. 

He stood there for a very long time, but he doubted even his saintly brother could have resisted such a compelling invitation. One minute his feet were firmly planted on the snowy ground. The next he was slipping through your window like a thief intent upon stealing some priceless treasure. He glided silently toward the bed. The canopy of the four poster was draped in sheer gauze giving it the appearance of a sultan’s tent. As he parted the shimmering curtain, it wasn’t difficult to imagine the woman he found sleeping within ruling over both a man’s harem and his heart. 

You had made a valiant effort to contain your rioting curls in a neat pair of braids, but several silky strands had escaped to frame your face. You slept on your back with one hand nestled against the sleep flushed curve of your cheek. A rueful smile quirked his lips when he saw the stake clutched in your other hand. 

“That’s my girl.” he whispered as a delicate snore escaped your parted lips. Despite your fondness for whimsy, you had always possessed a practical streak. Taehyung knew that if he chose to press his suit, the stake would be a feeble defense indeed. He could only be thankful that you hadn’t yet realized you possessed other weapons that might be even more lethal to his heart. 

It didn’t take long for his overdeveloped sense of smell to betray him. His nostrils flared as he leaned closer, allowing him the forbidden luxury of drinking in your scent. If not for the press of unwashed bodies and cigar smoke in the gambling hell, he might have smelled you coming and had time to flee out a back entrance. You still smelled exactly as he remembered---clean and sweet like wind tossed sheets drying on a rope in the sunshine. Yet underlying that innocent fragrance of rosemary and soap was a woman’s irresistible musk, the elusive perfume that had been driving men mad with longing for centuries. 

He swallowed back his own longing, fighting the urge to bury his face against your throat. He was dangerously hungry and your enticing scent made him ache to devour you in more ways than one. In some ways, it had been easy to keep his distance from you as long as he could pretend you were still just a lovelorn little girl. He had put oceans and continents and scores of other women between you, content to melt his memories of you both tantalize and torment him. 

Was he the reason you had never wed? He wondered. He had certainly wasted enough of the lonely hours between dusk and dawn envisioning you in another man’s arms, another man’s bed. Yet here you are, still bearing the scars of his kiss on your throat like a burning brand. The irony did not escape him. You bore his mark, yet he could never again claim you for his own. 

_ Why not? _

Taehyung stiffened. He was no stranger to that sly voice or it's dark insinuations. He wasn’t even surprised to find its oily cadences identical to Min Yoongi’s. After all, it had been Yoongi who had turned him into a vampire. Yoongi who had taunted him, swearing that he would never know a moment’s peace or satisfaction until he stopped trying to be a man and embraced being a monster. Yoongi who had hurled you into his arms in that crypt, encouraging him to slake both his hunger and his loneliness by ripping the soul right out of you and making you his eternal bride. 

The temptation had lost none of its allure since that moment. If anything it had grown stronger, honed by endless nights of feeding without ever sating his appetites, touching but never truly feeling. 

No longer able to resist touching you, he brushed his fingertips across the pale scars of your throat. A frown flickered across your face. Your lips parted in a soft moan that could have indicated either pleasure or pain. 

A savage wave of heat flooded his groin and he felt his fangs lengthen and sharpen in reckless anticipation. You turned your face toward his, murmuring a sleepy protest as he gently tugged the stake from your hands. 

_ Surrender…. _

The seductive whisper twined like silk through your dreams, coaxing you to lower all of your defenses. To lay down the last of your weapons and welcome the swirling darkness with open arms. 

You were no longer alone in the darkness. He was there. It was his voice you heard, urging you to confess all of your secret longings. You could feel yourself getting lost in the hypnotic power of his whisper, feel your limbs growing heavier with each shallow breath, Each languid beat of your heart. He had to have you. Without you, he would die. No longer able to resist his entreaty or his command, you drew back your hair with a trembling hand and offered him your throat. 

You jerked awake, the dream still so real you had half expected to find Taehyung looming over you, his fangs already bared. But the only thing looming over you was the canopy. You touched a hand to the scars on your throat, a shaky sigh escaped your lungs. What sort of perverse creature were you? The dream should have terrified you, not leave your breasts taut and your body aching with yearning. 

You pressed your other hand to your pounding heart, realizing it was empty. The stake must have slipped from your grip while you were thrashing about in the bedclothes. You didn’t know if you could ever bring yourself to use it against Taehyung, but it's familiar heft still gave you comfort. 

You rolled to your side to search the sheets. That’s when you saw the stake, propped up on the pillow next to you with the burgundy ribbon you had tossed atop Taehyung’s winnings at the gambling hell tied around its length in a neat bow. 

Wondering if you were still dreaming, you slowly sat up and brushed your trembling fingers across the velvet ribbon. Your gaze flew to the window. 

Snatching up the stake, you tossed back the blankets and ran to the window. It was closed, but not latched, as if someone had pushed it shut from the outside. An impossible feat since there was no balcony, no ledge, and no tree within ten feet of your bedchamber. You shoved open the window, inviting a frigid rush of air into the toasty warmth of the room. Someone had not only closed the window, but soaked your fire with a fresh log. 

You leaned over the sill, searching the shadows below for any hint of movement. But the night with its distant moon and glittering stars was no less lonely than before. Sinking down in the window seat, you turned the stake over in your hands. You could easily imagine Taehyung’s deft fingers tying that ribbon around its deadly length before gently resting it on your pillow. 

Was it meant to be an invitation or a parting gift? A promise or a warning?

_ Surrender.., _ he had whispered in your dreams. But what did he want you to surrender? Your heart? Your hopes? Your very soul? Drawing the stake to your chest, you turned your face to the moon and waited for dawn. 

**\- - - - - - - **

You shuffled into the breakfast room the next morning, smothering a yawn behind your hand. You had kept your vigil at the window for most of the night, finally nodding off just as the first rays of the sun had come peeping over the rooftops. You had awakened less than two hours later, your muscles aching and stiff, your cold fingers still wrapped around the stake. 

You had slipped the beribboned weapon into the detachable pocket of your skirt before coming downstairs. You knew you would eventually have to show it to Jin, but some small selfish corner of your heart wanted to keep it tucked safely out of sight for just a little while longer. It might be the last secret you and Taehyung would ever share. 

Jin sat on the far side of the circular table with your older sister by his side. Judging from the dark circles beneath both their eyes, they hadn’t slept any more than you had. Their glum expressions were in direct contrast to the dazzling brightness of the sun winking off the snow that still blanketed the terrace outside the windows. Little Katherine, who usually entertained herself by hurling gobbets of porridge at Jimin was conspicuously absent. Namjoon slouched in the chair across from Jin, his cravat half untied and his light brown hair tousled as if he had just blown in on a winter gale. 

There wasn’t a single butler or handmaid in attendance and the plates they had filled from the elegant walnut sideboard appeared to be untouched. As you watched, your eldest sister absently poked her coddled egg with a two pronged fork but made no attempt to bring a bite to her mouth. 

You puzzled gaze swept the table. “What on earth is the matter with all of you? You look as if someone had died.”

“Someone did.” Namjoon replied in a clipped tone, brushing a stray hank of hair out of his eyes. “There was another murder last night, this one even more brutal than the others.”

You groped blindly for the back of a chair, wishing for Jimin. You no longer trusted your knees to support you. 

Your eldest sister reached over and squeezed Jin’s hand. “It couldn’t have been your brother. You heard Y/N. She promised us that he was leaving Sensorica.” 

Jin shook his head. His eyes as bleak as his expression. “I might be able to take comfort in that if we knew for certain that he’d already gone.” 

“He hasn’t.” your stark words fell into the void left by his, drawing every eye in the room to your ashen face. “He came to my room last night while I was sleeping. He left this for me.” Reaching into the pocket of your skirt, you withdrew the stake and tossed it on the table. The bow unfurled against the starched white linen of the tablecloth like a ribbon of dried blood. 

Seokjin gazed at it in silence, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Darling,” Your eldest sister whispered helplessly, reaching for his arm. 

Evading her grasp, he shoved his chair away from the table and surged to his feet. He started around the table but before he could reach the door, you were there, blocking his path. 

“Don’t!” he warned, stabbing a finger at your chest. “I love you as if you were my very own sister and I’d drag the moon from the sky if I thought it would make you happy. But I can’t allow you to stop me from doing what must be done.” 

“I don’t want to stop you.” you replied. An eerie calm had washed over you, leaving your mercifully numb. “I want to help you.” 

“How?” he asked warily.

“By offering him something he can’t resist.”

“And just what would that be Y/N?” 

You felt your full lips tilt in their most seductive and dangerous smile. “Me.” 

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 5

** _Tendrils of mist rose from the damp cobblestones._ ** Earlier in the day a chill rain had washed the last of the snow from the streets, leaving them gleaming beneath the moody glow of the streetlamps. Clouds still hung low over the rooftops and chimneys of the city, making it a moonless night, perfect for hunting. 

Three figures came melting out of the mist--a woman flanked by two men. Despite her petite stature and the fact that both of her companions towered over her by nearly a foot, a casual observer might have judged the woman to be the most dangerous of the three. And in that moment, they would have been right. 

Her dark eyes glittered with determination beneath the hood of her dove gray cloak. Her shapely hips rolled with each step in a gait perilously near to a swagger. The tilt of her head exudes both confidence and purpose. She might be willing to play the role of victim, but anyone foolish enough to take the bait she offered would clearly be trespassing at their own risk. 

As they reached the outskirts of the rookery that had sprung up just behind the royal stables, Jin touched a finger to his lips and motioned Namjoon and yourself into a deserted alleyway. The three of you huddled in the shadow of an overhanging eaves like any other ne’er-do-wells out for a bit of mischief on such a foggy and forbidding night. 

This island of squalor between Company Cross and the end of the Mall would perfectly suit the purpose of any villain, vampire or mortal. Winding alleys and narrow streets separated the ramshackle hovels from dingy courts bearing deceptively exotic names like the Tempest Islands. Many a poor woman had been dragged into one of those dark and deserted alleys, never to be seen again. 

“Are you sure you can do this?” Jin asked you, his brow furrowed in a worried frown. 

“Just watch me.” you replied, unfastening the top frog of your cloak so that the swansdown lined garment hung loosely on your shoulders. Beneath it you wore an evening dress woven from rich garnet velvet the color of blood, its slashed sleeves and deep, square cut bodice better suited to a courtesan than the sister-in-law of a reputable viscount. You hooked your thumbs in the stiff whalebone corset sewn into the bodice and tugged it down to better expose the ample curves of your cleavage. 

Jin immediately reached to tug it back up. You smacked his hands away. He sighed. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Your sister was dead set against it, you know. If I let any harm come to you, she’ll have my head.”

“And Victoria will have my-” Namjoon began, but stopped when Jin barked out a cough. Clearing his throat, he finished with, “Well, she’ll have my head as well.”

You adjusted your hairpins and dragged a few curls from the lustrous coils of hair piled on top of your head, knowing that even a mortal man couldn’t resist a woman who looked as if she had just tumbled out of bed. 

Although your heart was beating so loudly you were afraid they would hear it, you fought to keep your hands steady. “There’s no need for the two of you to fuss over me like a pair of nervous mother hens. We always knew this day would come.”

“But not with Taehyung as out quarry,” Jin reminded you softly.

You gnawed on your lips to bring some color to them, hoping the brisk January wind would whip some roses into your bloodless cheeks. “Then we’ll just have to stop thinking of him as Taehyung, won’t we, and start thinking of him as the ruthless killer that he’s become.”

The two men exchanged a troubled glance over you head, but when Namjoon opened his mouth to speak, Jin shook his head in warning. 

Jin pointed to an abandoned warehouse down the street. “We’ll be right across the way, Y/N. If it looks like you’re getting into any trouble at all, we’ll come running.”

He moved closer, opening his arms as if to embrace you, but you stepped away from both of them. Your bones felt as brittle as an old lady. If anyone as to so much patted you on the shoulder, you feared they would snap. 

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked awkwardly tucking his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. 

“I can only hope.” you said, drawing the stake Taehyung had left on your pillow from the secret pocket Victoria had sewn into your skirt. You slid the burgundy ribbon from the weapon before tucking it back into the pocket, then secured the length of velvet around the graceful column of your throat, making it an even more enticing target. “But I am confident that I have everything  _ he _ needs.” 

Poking his head out of the alley to peer both ways down the deserted street, Namjoon drew a small flintlock pistol from the pocket of his coat and passed it to you. “If anyone else accosts you, just fire this into the air.”

“Or into them.” Jin said grimly.

They politely averted their eyes as you lifted the flounced hem of your skirt and tucked the pistol into your lace garter. You shivered at the bite of the cold steel against your bare skin. 

“Once he recognizes you, he may suspect it’s a trap,” Jin warned you. 

“Doubtful.” you replied. “Given his colossal arrogance, he’ll probably think I just came to warn him you were coming or to read some poetry by the fire.”

You straightened, the steely glint in your eye informing them that you were ready. Jin and Namjoon exchanged a nod, then ushered you toward the mouth of the alley. As they reached the street, the three of you parted ways as if they had just concluded some sordid assignation. Jin and Namjoon went stumbling toward one of the courts, their raucous laughter ringing through the night, while you meandered in the opposite direction, teetering slightly on the heels of your kid slippers to make yourself appear more defenseless. 

Although you knew it would only take a matter of minutes for the men to double back and slip into the warehouse across the street, you had never felt so utterly alone in your life. 

For over five long years you had comforted yourself with the notion that Taehyung was out there somewhere in the night, pining for you as you pined for him. Stripped of that illusion, the night felt as vast and cold as the moonless sky. You wanted nothing more than to huddle deeper into your cloak, but instead you shrugged the garment off of one shoulder and lifted your chin high, baring the vulnerable curve of your throat. 

You strolled slowly along, not wanting to get too far from the warehouse. They had chosen this spot deliberately because it was only a block away from where two of the murdered women had been found. You jumped when a drunken sailor stumbled out of one of the alleys just ahead of you. But he spared you little more than a bleary glance, obviously more intent on finding his next tumbler of gin than his next woman. 

The mist distorted every sound, making it impossible to tell if a ghostly echo of laughter or a furtive footfall was coming from a block away or from just behind you. An icy trickle of sweat eased down the back of your neck. Without warning you whirled around. The street behind you was empty. Now you were being haunted by the echo of your own footsteps. 

Shaking your head at your own jumpiness, you resumed your leisurely stroll. But you’d only taken a few steps when you suddenly stopped in your tracks. Less than twenty feet away, a tall hooded figure in a black cloak stood haloed beneath the flickering glow of a streetlamp. 

You knew there was still time to shout for help. Still time for Jin and Namjoon to come rushing to your rescue. But if you sounded the alarm too soon, Taehyung might flee. You cringed inwardly to realize that in some small pathetic corner of your heart, you almost wished he would. 

You slipped your icy fingers into the pocket of your skirt, closing them around the stake. You knew now that he hadn’t left it on your pillow as a parting give, but as a challenge--a taunt. 

You forced your feet into motion. The figure beneath the streetlamp stood watching...waiting, so still that one would have sworn he had never even felt the need to draw breath. You were almost upon him when he reached up and eased back his hood...to reveal a shimmering mane of white gold curls. 

Your relief was so keen that you gasped aloud. It wasn’t a man, but a woman. And not just any woman, you quickly realized, but one of the most ravishing creatures you had ever laid eyes on. Her dazzling fall of blond hair was complimented by a pair of ripe ruby lips and hypnotic green eyes. Her fair skin was eerily unlined, making it impossible to judge her age. Her pale, slender fingers were adorned with jewels-- a winking emerald, a teardrop ruby, an opal the size of a small egg. You wondered what on earth she was doing in the rookery. She might very well be a nobleman’s pampered mistress, but such an uncommon beauty could never be mistaken for a common prostitute. 

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, madam.” You warned her, stealing a glance over her shoulder. “The streets aren’t safe tonight,”

“Are they ever?” the woman replied, gazing down her long, patrician nose at you. 

You detected a ripe ripple of amusement and the lilting hint of an accent in throaty voice. “Probably not in this neighborhood. Have you a carriage and driver somewhere nearby?”

“I have no need for a carriage.” the woman gazed up and down the street, allowing you to admire the stunning elegance of her profile. “I am waiting for my lover.”

You blinked, taken aback by both the woman’s candor and her imperious air. “It’s very late.” you said tentatively. “Are you sure he’s coming?”

The woman’s full red lips curved in a smile. “Oh, he will come. I’ve made sure of that.” She turned that dazzling smile on you. 

You couldn’t help staring, mesmerized by the feline slant of the woman’s eyes. You were starting to feel a little like a cobra coiled in the basket of a master snake charmer. If the woman started to sway, you feared you would too. 

“So why does an innocent little dove like you brave the streets tonight?” the woman asked. “Are you also waiting for a lover?” 

You stiffened. “I’m afraid not. My love”-- you stumbled over the word-- “my  _ lover _ betrayed me. He has been proven false.” 

To your surprise, the woman reached out a snow white hand tipped with crimson nails and gently stroked your cheek. “Poor little dove.” she crooned. “A lover broke my heart once. The pain was as fierce as any I have ever known. I longed for death.” 

You felt your own bruised heart leap in sympathy. “You actually wanted to die?” 

The woman’s eyes widened. “Not my death, little one. His. I felt much better after I’d cut out his heart and eat it.” 

Your mouth fell open, but before your scream could escape, the woman’s hand shot out and closed over your throat. She lifted you clear off your feet, sending the stake in your hand tumbling from your numb fingers to the ground. 

The woman’s ruby red lips parted to reveal a gleaming white pair of fangs. “If you will allow me, my dear, perhaps I can put an end to your suffering as well.”

**\- - - - - **

“You promised me we were leaving Sensorica.” Chubby muttered, crouching down next to where Taehyung was kneeling and shooting him an accusing look. “You come knocking at my window in the dead of night and say, ‘Abandon your nice toasty bed and come away with me, Chubs. Bring a handful of your father’s jewels and we can spend the rest of the winter lazing on the sunny beaches of a southern isle.’” Tugging down the brim of his beaver top hat to cover ears pink with cold, he eyed the shadowy loft of the abandoned warehouse with a mistrustful eye. “Instead you drag me down to this miserable hellhole where some miscreant may very well cut my purse or worse yet, my throat.” 

“If you don’t stop whining,” Taehyung said absently, peering through the jagged hole where a pane of glass had once resided, “I’m going to cut out your tongue.” 

Chubby snapped his mouth shut, but his breath continued to escape his nostrils in frigid little puffs, making him look like an indignant dragon. 

Taehyung sighed and pivoted on one knee to face him. “I told you I had some unfinished business in Sensorica. As soon as it’s settled, I swear I’ll find you that sunny beach and your bloody opera dancer.” 

“Your unfinished business usually involves sneaking into a lady’s bedchamber to return a missing undergarment before her husband gets home, not spending half the night huddled in Company Crossing freezing our tailcoats off.” He leaned forward to survey the street below, forcing Taehyung to grab the tails of his coat to keep him from tumbling headfirst out the window. “Is this about Jung? Is the scoundrel up to no good? Have you found a way to blackmail him into tearing up your vowels?” 

“This is about settling another debt I owe.” Taehyung’s wayward memory conjured up a vision of you nestled snugly in your bed. Only in the vision, you opened your eyes and your arms to welcome him. “And I won’t leave Sensorica without seeing it paid.” 

“Well, I just hope this uncharacteristic attack of scruples doesn’t prove fatal. For either one of us.” Chubby settled back on his haunches. “What one earth have you been doing since you dropped me off at my father’s town house the other night? Based on your impressive performance at the coffee house earlier, it certainly wasn’t eating. I’ve never seen a man shovel down five rare beefsteaks at one sitting.” He shook his head in grudging admiration. “But I have to admit that it improved your color. You were looking a trifle bit pasty.”

Taehyung muttered something noncommittal. He was still so hungry that even Chubby’s thick neck was starting to look a little tempting. 

“Once we get to Madrid, perhaps we can--”

“Shhhhhh!” Taehyung raided a warning hand as a shadowy figure came stumbling out of one of the alleys below. 

But it was just a drunken sailor searching for another tavern. Somewhere in the distance, the bells of the church began to chime midnight, their high pure tones out of place in this dangerous corner of hell where wisps of fog drifted up from the cobblestones like brimstone-scented smoke. Taehyung narrowed his eyes as another figure came melting out of the fog that had just swallowed the sailor. 

“It’s a woman.” Chubby said. 

“I can see that.” Taehyung snapped, his nerves frayed to the breaking point. 

The cloaked woman meandered down the street as if she had no particular destination in mind. Taehyung might have thought she was drunk, but she was neither weaving or staggering. If she were a light skirt trolling for coins, it should have been easy enough for her to coax the sailor into one of the nearby alleys for a quick coupling or a ball-against-the-wall, as it was known in curder circles. 

He felt some of the tension seep from his muscles as she drew abreast of the warehouse and he realized she was buxom and petite, not tall and willowy. But his relief was quickly replaced by a more discomfiting emotion. There was something distressingly familiar about the saucy roll of her hips, the glossy dark curls piled atop her head, the challenging tilt of her chin. 

“What in the hell…” he breathed. 

He blinked rapidly, hoping hunger and fatigue would account for the sight of you gliding right out of his fantasies and down the damp, cobbled streets of Company Crossing. 

Despite the seediness of your surroundings, you might have been taking a stroll through the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Your cloak had slipped off of one creamy shoulder, making you look even more vulnerable. As Taehyung’s keen eyesight focused on the burgundy ribbon tied around the pale expanse of her throat, he felt his mouth go bone dry with longing.

“Not a very wholesome path for a young woman to take,” Chubby whispered. “Should we intervene?” 

Taehyung wanted nothing more than to do just that. He wanted to leap right down there and shake some sense into your foolish little head, something his brother was apparently unable to do. But some primitive survival instinct made him hesitate. You had defied Jin and risked both your life and your reputation to seek him out in the gambling hell. But what if he had played the role of the villain too well? What if your allegiance had shifted? He could think of no sweeter bait for his brother to use to lure him out of hiding. 

Chubby pointed to the streetlamp on the corner. “Ah, there’s no need for worry after all. She must be meeting someone.”

Someone who had miraculously appeared out of thin air. Someone whose willowy grace made her appear to float even when she wasn’t in motion. Someone who was even now sweeping back the hood of her cloak to reveal the alabaster skin of an angel and a fall of silvery blond hair. 

Taehyung felt the scant nourishment he’d derived from the beefsteaks turn to ice water in his veins. “Dear God,” he whispered, invoking a name he no longer had the right to use. 

He scrambled to his feet. 

“Where are you going?” Chubby demanded, his side whiskers quivering with alarm. “You’re not going to leave me here all alone, are you?” 

Taehyung seized his friend by the shoulders and hauled him effortlessly to his feet. “I need your help, Chubs. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me tonight if I could have done this alone. But I was afraid we were walking into some sort of trap. I need you to do what you do best--watch my back.”

He dragged Chubby to the edge of the loft and pointed to a pair of sandbags dangling from a nearby beam. They hung right over the splintery wooden doors that stood guard over the main entrance of the warehouse. Earlier in the day, Taehyung had looped the ropes holding them aloft over a nearby peg. “If anyone besides me tries to come through those doors, I want you to loosen the ropes and drop those sandbags on them. Do you understand?” 

Chubby nodded mutely, his throat too swollen by panic for speech.

“Good man,” Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, sparing him a brief but fierce smile. 

Then he was gone, moving so swiftly that Chubby would have sworn his fet never once touched the rungs of the ladder they’d climbed to reach the loft. Before Chubby could puzzle over what he’d seen, a faint shriek, quickly muffled, came from the street. He started back toward the window but a man’s shout and the thunder of running footsteps drew him up short. 

Remembering the charge with which Taehyung had entrusted him, he stumbled over to the peg where the rope was looped. He cocked his head to the side, frowning. The footsteps were coming from the wrong direction. They weren’t coming from the street but the ground floor of the warehouse. An icy bands tightened around his chest as he realized they had been sharing their hiding place with someone else all along. Someone who was even now racing toward the very door Taehyung had ordered him to guard. 

He reached for the rope, but hesitated, torn by indecision. Hadn’t Taehyung told him to drop the sandbags on  _ anyone _ who tried to come through that door? He had not specified in which direction. The footsteps were drawing nearer. In just a few more seconds, they would be at the door. 

Before he could lose his nerve, Chubby gave the rope a decisive tug, losing it from the peg and sending the sandbags plummeting to the floor below. 

There were two loud thumps, muffled groans, and then dead silence. 

Wincing in belated empathy, Chubby peered over the edge of the loft. In the dim light, he could barely make out two shadowy figures sprawled on the dirt floor below. Although he doubted the impact could have killed them, he was confident that they weren’t going to be troubling Taehyung or anyone else anytime soon. He smiled and dusted off his hands, rather pleased that he had managed to fell two such giants without Taehyung’s help. 

**\- - - - - **

You deserved to be eaten. 

You allowed yourself to become totally consumed with the notion that Taehyung was both a murderer and a monster and now you were about to be consumed by some bloodthirsty witch you should have recognized as a vampire at twenty paces. As you hung helpless in the creature’s deadly grasp like a rag doll caught in the jaws of a snarling mastiff, you found it odd that in these, the last moments of you life, you would be feeling not terror but acute embarrassment at your own ineptitude and bittersweet relief that you had misjudged Taehyung so thoroughly. 

The toes of your slippers scrambled for purchase on the damp cobblestone. The woman wrapped a handful of your around one ruthless fist and gave them a harsh yank, jerking your head to the side. 

As she hooked one of her scarlet tipped fingernails beneath your choker and prepared to rip it away so she could better reach the soft, vulnerable flesh of your throat, you squeezed your eyes shut. You could not help but wonder if Taehyung would miss your “Bright Eyes” when they were forever closed. 

You waited for those lethal fangs to descend, for that bright, piercing agony to paint your world the color of blood. But nothing happened. You opened your eyes. The woman still had her scarlet claw hooked in the choker. Her fangs were still gleaming only inches from your throat. But her hungry gaze had been transfixed by something else. Something over your right shoulder. 

You took advantage of her inattention to twist around in her arms. Although that powerful hand was still splayed over your jaw, the pressure on your throat had eased a fraction. 

A man was walking down the street toward them. No, not a man at all, you quickly realized, your heart lurching with hope.. 

Taehyung came sauntering out of the mist as if he had an eternity to rescue you, his every motion fluid with masculine grace. With the lamplight lovingly caressing the sculpted bones of his face and the wind stirring his dark mane of hair, he looked like some sort of doomed angel cast out of heaven for committing a sin he could not resist. He had never looked as dangerous--or as beautiful--as he did in that moment. You sagged against her captor, biting back a sob of relief. 

“Hello darling.” he said as he drew abreast of them, his voice low and silky. 

You opened up your mouth to reply, but before you could, the woman purred. “Hello, my love. You’re just in time to join for a little snack.”

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 6

** _Although your mouth continued to hang open, you couldn’t have choked out a word if your life had depended on it. _ **

Taehyung raked a disparaging gaze over to you. “Little indeed. A mouthful that small is hardly worth the bother. If I were you, I’d toss her back in the gambling hell.”

“I was hoping we could keep her.” You shuddered as the woman’s tongue darted out to give your cheek an affectionate lick. “She’s rather charming and I’ve always wanted a kitten.”

Taehyung’s laughter had a cruel edge you had never before heard from his lips. “Why would you wish to keep her, Valentine? So you could drown her in a bucket when toying with her ceases to amuse you?”

_ Valentine. _

It didn’t seem fair to you that such a beautiful name would belong to such a cruel creature. But after all, it did rhyme with _ mean _ . “Excuse me,” you rasped, your throat stilling raw. “I hate to interrupt this touching little reunion but am I to assume--”

“Silence!” Taehyung hissed. 

You hated yourself for flinching, but the sparkling warmth you had always seen in his eyes whenever he looked at you had vanished, leaving them cold and flat. You pressed your lips tightly together to keep them from trembling, forced to satisfy yourself with a defiant glare. 

“I always knew you’d come back to me,” Valentine said, the gloating note of triumph in her voice unmistakable. 

“Come back to you?” Taehyung snorted. “You’re the one who’s been following me from one end of the world to the other.”

“Only because I knew you’d come to your senses someday and realize that we were destined to be together.” 

Your stomach was beginning to roil. It didn’t help to know that you’d had countless fantasies about saying those exact same words to him, preferably while cradled in his arms and gazing deeply into his eyes. 

“Then I suppose that day has finally come.” Taehyung’s contemptuous gaze skirted over you again. “So why don’t you send the kitten scampering on its merry way so we can be alone?”

“Why waste such a succulent little morsel? I thought the two of us could share her to celebrate our new beginning.”

You gritted your teeth against a wave of pain as Valentine trailed a blood red nail across the front of your throat, carving a shallow trench. 

“No!” Taehyung barked. You felt a flare of hope but then he scowled, that beautiful mouth of his taking a sulky turn. “I’m not in the mood to share tonight. If I’m going to have her, then I want her all to myself. She can be your gift to me.”

Valentine sounded genuinely surprised. “But you’ve always been so finicky about dining on humans, darling. Have you had a change of heart?”

“How can he change what he doesn’t have?” You muttered, renewing your squirming efforts to escape the woman’s vise-like grip. 

Valentine shrugged. “Very well. If you want her, she’s all yours. But only if you let me watch.” She gave you a harsh shove, sending you careening into Taehyung’s arms much as Yoongi had done in the crypt all those years ago. But then you hadn’t known he was a vampire. You had pressed your trembling body to his as if he was your salvation. 

He wrapped his arms around you, dragging you flush against him. His body was burning with that peculiar fever you now recognized as hunger. Hunger for you. 

You shuddered as your own body betrayed you with a perverse thrill at being back in his arms again. You began to fight in earnest, kicking with your feet and striking out with your fists until he was forced to twist both of your wrists behind your back to subdue you. Although you doubted his grip would leave so much as a bruise, there wasn’t an ounce of mercy in it. You might as well have been a helpless fly twisting in the sticky strands of a spider’s web.

“Struggle all you like, little one,” he murmured, his seductive gentleness somehow crueler than all of Valentine’s brutality. “It will only make your surrender all the sweeter when it comes.”

You sagged against him, undone by your darkest fear. What if you succumbed to him? What if, in that moment when he pierced your flesh and made you his own once again, you felt not despair but exultation?

His lush dark lashes swept down to veil his eyes. He leaned over you, the lethal points of his fangs already visible. His warm mouth grazed your throat in the caress of a lover, not a monster, and you felt your resistance melting away, leaving only desire and shame. If you were going to die, then why shouldn’t it be by his hand, in his arms?

His parted lips lingered against the pulse behind your ear, making his whisper little more than a vibration. “I may have to nibble you just a little, Bright eyes, but when I shove you away from me I want you to run as if the devil himself were fast on your heels.”

For a fevered moment, you thought you had imagined his words. Especially when his strong fingers ruthlessly ripped away the choker and his fangs descended toward the tender flesh of your throat. 

“Wait!” Valentine’s shrill cry froze the both of you. 

This time there was no mistaking the succinct oath Taehyung swore under his breath. 

Slipping your wrists out of his suddenly lax grasp, you wiggled around in his arms until the both of you were facing Valentine. The woman was pointed at your throat, her scarlet tipped finger all aquiver. “What is that?” she demanded. 

Even though you knew it was too late, you clapped a hand to the scars on your throat. Valentine’s accusing gaze glided to your face. “This isn’t the first time you’ve tasted a vampire’s kiss, is it?”

“Perhaps not,” Taehyung growled. “But I can promise you it will be the last.” To underscore his threat, he grabbed a handful of your curls and gave them a rough yank. 

“Ow!” you exclaimed, throwing him a glare over your shoulder. 

Valentine began to prowl around you in a lazy half circle, the hem of her cloak flowing her like a train of a queen’s ermine trimmed robes. Her gaze was still fixed on your face. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were no stranger to our ways?” 

“Because you were too busy trying to rip out my throat.” you retorted. You lowered your hand, brazenly exposing that throat and your scars. 

The woman’s hypnotic green eyes narrowed. “Ah, so the kitten has claws after all. You’d best watch your eyes, V.” 

But Taehyung was watching Valentine, his every muscle rigid with wariness. 

You instinctively shrank against him as the woman reached out one hand brushed her fingertips over the scars, her touch almost gentle. “Who left their mark on you? Who is your master, kitten?”

Having had enough of being bullied by vampires for one night, you boldly knocked the woman’s hand away. “I don’t have a master and my name isn’t kitten. It’s Y/N. But that would be Miss Y/L/N to the likes of you.”

Valentine’s eyes widened. “Y/N?” She spat the name from her mouth as if it were the foulest of poisons. “ _ You’re _ Y/n?” 

Taehyung groaned before muttering, “I knew I should have eaten you when I had the chance.”

You ignored him, your attention now fixed on Valentine. “How do you know me?”

The female vampire threw her hands in the air with a dramatic flourish. “How could I not know you, what with V here constantly murmuring your name in his sleep?” 

“Don’t do this, Valentine!” Taehyung warned. “There’s nothing to be gained from it.”

The woman continued as if he hadn’t spoken, her upper lip curled in a snarl. “ _ Darling _ Y/N.  _ Sweet _ Y/N.  _ Precious _ Y/N. And then there was that time when he was making love to me and he forgot my name but had no trouble remembering yours.”

You gaped at her for a moment in stunned silence, then wheeled on Taehyung, torn between kissing him and kicking him. “You cried out  _ my _ name? While you were making love to  _ her _ ?”

His face was so hard it might have been carved from a diamond. “She probably just misunderstood me. I barely spared you a thought while I was away. You were never anything more to me than a lovestruck child.”

Valentine made a skeptical noise that sounded distinctly like the French version of “Pppht!” 

Although you knew you should be recoiling from the cruel lash of his words, you drew one step nearer to him, gazing up into his glittering eyes. “Is that why you stayed away so long? Because you couldn’t bear the sight of me? The sound of my voice?” you asked softly. “My scent?”

He closed his eyes for an instant, his nostrils flaring involuntarily. “I stayed away because I was relieved to be free of your fawning adoration. I found it to be a burden and a dreadful bore.”

“Good,” Valentine said briskly from behind you. “Then you won’t mind if I proceed with my plans to tear out her pretty little throat, will you?” 

Before you could react to the woman’s threat, Taehyung had swept you back into his arms. He held you against his broad chest, sheltering you behind the barricade of his well muscled forearm. “I’d advise you to keep both your fangs and your claws sheathed, Valentine.” 

“Or you’ll what?” The woman purred. “Stake me? Drench me in oil and set me on fire? Cut off my head and stuff it with garlic?” 

“Don’t tempt me.” he snarled. 

She pursed her lush red lips in a pretty pout. “You really shouldn’t make idle threats, my darling boy, when we both know you’ll do no such thing.” She shifted her mocking gaze from Taehyung to you. “You may have his heart, kitten, but I’ll always have his soul.”

** _Taehyung had faced enemies of all sorts in his_ ** life--bloodthirsty vampires, ferocious soldiers, irate husbands--all willing to go to excessive lengths to end his worthless existence. But he’d never known the depth of dread he felt as you calmly disengaged yourself from his embrace and turned to face him. Even in heeled slippers you barely came up to his chin, but he still caught himself taking a step backward. 

Your eyes were clear and bright, your expression amiable. Yet he knew that if you’d had a stake in your hand at that moment, there would have been nothing left of him but a film of dust on your slippers. “So you went in search of your soul and you found  _ her _ .” 

Although it was not a question, he slowly nodded. 

“You left everyone who loved you waiting and worrying for over five years. While we were spending all of those sleepless nights praying for your safe return, you were cavorting in the bed of the vampire who possessed the one thing that could restore you to humanity.”

“When I went looking for the vampire who sired Yoongi, the last thing I expected to find was a woman.”

“Especially not such a beautiful one, I’ll wager. If you’d have found some homely, bowlegged old crone with a hairy wart on her chin hoarding your soul, I’m sure you would have had no compunctions about ripping out her throat and retrieving it.”

Gazing at him fondly, Valentine sighed. “My V has always been such a gentleman when it comes to the ladies. I’ve often feared it would be his downfall.”

“For once, madam, you may just be right.” you said softly, never once taking your eyes off of his face. “So why did you come here tonight, Tae? Did you come to rendezvous with your lover? Or to destroy her and claim your soul so that you could come home to us?” It was pure agony to watch you lift your chin and swallow the last bitter dregs of your pride. “To me?”

Although he owed you so much more, all he had to give you was the truth. “I wanted to make sure the murders were going to stop. So I came to tell her that I was leaving Sensorica. I knew she’d follow me, whether I wanted her to or not.” 

Taehyung felt a pang of unexpected grief as he watched all that had been spring turn to winter in your eyes. Since he’d had never deliberately sought your affection, he’d had no idea he would mourn it so keenly once it was gone. For the first time in a very long while, he felt like the monster he was. 

“You suspected that she was the murderer all along, didn’t you? Yet you let me believe it could have been you. Why would you do such a thing? To protect her?” 

“To protect you!” Taehyung yelled. “If you believed the worst of me, I thought it might be easier for you to let me go.” 

A wealth of emotions played across your expressive face before you finally nodded. “You were right. Because as far as I’m concerned, you and your soul-sucking mistress can both go straight to the devil.”

Valentine clapped her hands like a child on Christmas morning. “She’s giving us her blessing, darling! Isn’t that quaint?”

Shaking your head in disgust, you turned and began to walk away from him, wobbling slightly on a loose heel. 

Fighting an irrational flare of anger, Taehyung moved so swiftly that you could not quite hide your startled jump when he appeared directly in front of you. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

“You already have,” you said, unshed tears burning bright in your eyes. “So I would suggest you take your precious Valentine and flee Sensorica before Jin puts a crossbow bolt through her shriveled little heart and some other bloodthirsty beauty inherits your miserable soul. I hope the two of you will live happily ever after. Oh wait--it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”

You neatly sidestepped him but before you could make your escape, he had blocked your path again. His desperation mounting, he reached for your arm. “Please, Bright eyes, you have to listen to me.” 

Before he could react, you had hiked up the hem of your skirt, revealing a delicious froth of petticoat and silk stocking, whipped a pistol out of your garter, and pointed it straight at his heart. You cocked the hammer with a decisive flick of your thumb. “Don’t  _ ever _ call me that again!” 

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Y/N, put that thing away! It’s not as if you’re going to shoot me.”

“Oh, no?” Smiling sweetly, you pulled the trigger. 

Taehyung staggered backward, the blast ringing in his ears. Gritting his teeth against a searing wave of pain, he gazed down at his chest in stunned disbelief. The wound was already healing, its ragged edges neatly folding in on themselves, but there would be no repairing the blackened hole in the expensive silk of his waistcoat. Regaining his balance, he shifted his disbelieving gaze back to you. “You know, it’s one thing to threaten to drive a stake through a man’s heart, but ruining a perfectly fine waistcoat is just bloody rude!”

“You can send me your tailor bill.” you blew on the mouth of the spent pistol before tucking it back into your garter, then pointed to Valentine, who had been watching your entire exchange with poorly concealed delight. “Or perhaps you can get the Duchess of Darkness over there to darn it with her teeth.” 

His chest and his temper still stinging, Taehyung growled at you, his fangs instinctively lengthening. This time you didn’t yield an inch. Your eyes blazed up at him, all but daring him to do his worst. 

“Step away from her, Tae!”

You both swung around as Jin’s commanding voice came ringing through the night. He was moving out of the mist toward you, his gaze locked on Taehyung and his powerful hands gripping a full-sized crossbow with a lethal bolt already slotted. Except for a few stray threads of silver woven through the honeyed gold of his hair, Jin hadn’t changed one whit since the last time he and Taehyung had come face-to-face. His hands were steady on the weapon, his eyes every bit as resolute as they had been when the two of them had played at knights and soldiers as boys. 

Namjoon moved like a shadow behind him, sporting a shiny new lump on his brow and hauling a sheepish-looking Chubby by his starched collar. 

“I tried to stop them, V.” Chubs blurted out. “I dropped the sandbags on their heads and knocked them out cold just like you said, but they came to before I could get them tied up. You always said I never could tie a decent knot in my cravat. I fear they may be madmen escaped from the prison. They keep blathering on and on with some nonsense about monsters and minions and vampires. When we heard the pistol shot, I feared the worst and--”

Namjoon gave Chubs a sharp shake, startling him into silence. 

Taehyung faced his brother without flinching, the night wind sifting its fingers through his hair. Ever since the day Yoongi had stolen his soul and turned him into a vampire, he’d known this moment would come. Perhaps you had been right all along. Perhaps he had returned to Sensorica because he knew there was no longer any point in delaying the inevitable. He fully expected you to bow out of the tragic scene, giving Jin a clean shot. But to his keen surprise, you stepped in front of him, putting yourself between his heart and that lethal bolt. 

“He didn’t murder those women, Jin. It was  _ her _ . She was the one who…” You turned to point an accusing finger, but your voice quickly trailed off. 

The pool of light beneath the lamppost was empty. Valentine had vanished just as swiftly as she had appeared. You blinked in astonishment but Taehyung wasn’t the least bit surprised by her defection. Valentine would have never thrived for over two hundred years, even surviving a near fatal brush with the guillotine after revolution, without possessing a healthy instinct for self-preservation. 

“But she was standing right there only a second ago,” you said helplessly, turning back to Jin. “Didn’t you see her?” You shot Namjoon a pleading glance. “ _ You _ must have seen her, didn’t you?”

The look Jin gave you was both tender and pitying. “I know you have strong feelings for my brother, Y/N, but you simply can’t protect him any longer.”

“You’re absolutely right. I have very strong feelings for him.” You ticked them off on your fingers. “There’s loathing. Contempt. Revulsion.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Taehyung murmured beneath his breath. 

“Despite my  _ feelings _ ,” you said crisply, tossing him a murderous glance of your own over your shoulder, “I won’t see him executed for crimes he didn’t commit.” 

Jin shook his head. “You forgot that I know you’ve always had a penchant for playacting. How can I be sure this isn’t just another ploy to help him make his escape?”

“Oh, she’s sincere this time.” Taehyung assured him. “She even shot me.”

Jin and Namjoon exchanged an incredulous glance before saying in unison, “ _ She shot you _ ?”

“She shot you?” Chubby echoed weakly, blinking like a befuddled owl. 

“Right through the heart,” he said proudly. “If I was alive, I’d be dead right now instead of undead.”

“I’m sure I’m not the first woman to shoot you.” You said out of the corner of your mouth. “They’re probably queuing up for the privilege down in Convence Garden even as we speak. As you can see,” you told Jin, “you no longer need to worry that sentimentality is clouding my good judgement.”

Jin took another step toward you, his eyes narrowing. “So despite all of the evidence to the contrary, you’re asking me to believe that Taehyung is innocent?”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Hardly! What I’m asking you to believe is that he’s not the vampire who killed those women.”

“Vampire?” Chubby repeated, his round face going so pale he might have easily been mistaken for one of the undead himself. His glazed eyes slowly rolled back in his head. He crumpled into a swoon, his deadweight sending Namjoon staggering to his knees. 

“I gather that you never found the time to tell your devoted friend that you were a bloodsucking fiend,” you said. 

“He never asked,” Taehyung replied, sparing Chubby a worried glance. “He just thought I was a late sleeper.”

“If Taehyung didn’t kill those women,” Jin asked, “then just who did?”

“His lover.” you replied, frost dripping from your every syllable. 

“She’s no longer my lover,” Taehyung said, biting off the words with equal ferocity. “If she was, I wouldn’t have purchased a commission in His Majesty’s army and gone all the way to Burman just to escape her.” 

Turning your back on both Jin and his deadly crossbow, you face him, planting your hands on your shapely hips. “I suppose she simply found your charms so irresistible that she decided to pursue you to the ends of the earth.”

“Is that so inconceivable?” He reached out to cup your cheek in his hand, softening his voice so that it would be audible to only your ears. “There was a time when you would have done the same.”

He might have carelessly killed your love for him, but you couldn’t completely hide the ghost of yearning in your eyes as he ran his thumb down the velvety softness of your cheek. In that moment Taehyung made a startling discovery. He didn’t want to end up as nothing more than dust on your slippers. In some sentimental corner of his heart he supposed he’d always believed that even if he perished without retrieving his soul and abandoned all hope of heaven, he would still live forever, if only in your heart. If he let Jin destroy him now, you probably wouldn’t even spit on his grave. “I’m sorry.” he whispered. 

“For what?” Fresh tears sparkled in your eyes. “Breaking a young girl’s foolish heart?”

“For this.” Without giving himself time to ponder the consequences, he slid his hand from your cheek to your nape and jerked you into his arms. Wrapping his other arm around your slender waist, he dragged you around so that they were both facing Jin. Using your vulnerable body as a shield was the only way he knew he could protect the both of you. 

Jin lunged toward you. 

Forced to wield his only weapon, Taehyung dipped his head toward your throat, baring his fangs. 

Biting off an oath, Jin froze in his tracks while Namjoon glared daggers at him. Your warm body was trembling against his, but Taehyung suspected you were vibrating with rage, not fear. 

“You should have listened to her,” he said grimly. “There’s a predator out there who’s far more dangerous than I am. Her name is Valentine Dewell. She was the vampire who turned Yoongi that night in the hellfire club. When you destroyed him, she inherited all of the souls he’d stolen and all of his power. And now that she knows who Y/N is, she won’t rest until she sees her dead.” 

“Then give her to me,” Jin begged, his anguished gaze flickering over your face. “Let me protect her.” 

Taehyung’s temper finally erupted. “You’ve done a capital job so far, haven’t you? Allowing her to travel unchaperoned through the city streets at night visiting gambling hells and men’s lodgings! Using her as monster bait and sending her to parade up and down dark alleys like a common light-skirt! If you’d have protected her as you should have, she’d have been married to some nice young man by now and forgotten my bloody name!” 

“I should be so fortunate!” You bucked wildly against him, but only succeeded in wedging your lush bottom against his hips, a position that was undoubtedly far more painful for him than for you. “In case you’ve forgotten, Jin is my brother-in-law, not my father. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!” 

“Oh, yes, that’s quite evident,” he replied dryly, wincing as one of your flailing heels connected soundly with his shin. 

“What do you want from me?” Jin demanded of Taehyung. 

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you need. And if you’re going to have any hope at all of protecting Y/N from Valentine, then you’re going to need me.”

“We’ve managed just fine without you for all these years,” you choked out, cutting off your own breath by surging against the arm he had locked beneath the beguiling softness of your breasts. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to carry on.” 

Jin took another step toward you. “Why Y/N, Tae? Why would this Valentine of yours have a particular vendetta against Y/N?” 

You went still in his arms, all of the fight draining out of you as you held your breath, awaiting his reply. 

He gentled his grip to something dangerously close to an embrace. “Because Valentine is not only slightly insane, but insanely jealous. And somewhere along the way, she may have received the mistaken impression that I...that Y/N and I...that we once were…” He faltered his usual glib eloquence deserting him.

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” you wailed, “shoot him or shoot me but please put one of us out of our misery!” 

His gaze traveling between your face and Taehyung’s, Jin slowly lowered the crossbow. You immediately jerked yourself free of his grip and stumbled to Jin’s side. He wrapped an arm around you, drawing you into the shelter of his body. 

Chubby let out a loud groan and began to stir, giving Taehyung no choice but to hasten over and help Namjoon wrest him to his feet. 

“Come now, Chubs,” Taehyung said gently, dusting off Chubby’s rumpled frock coat, “You’ve gone and knocked your poor cravat all askew.”

The fog in his eyes clearing, Chubby slapped Taehyung’s hands away and began to back away from him, trembling with genuine horror. “Get away from me, you devil!”

“I was going to tell you, Chubs. Truly I was. I was just waiting for the right time.”

“And when would that have been? After you’d ripped out my throat in my sleep?”

Taehyung took an involuntary step toward him, his hands clenching into helpless fists at his sides. “I never would have hurt you. You’re my friend.”

“I can’t be friends with a fiend! I should have listened to my father. He was right about you all along. You really are the spawn of satan!” 

With those damning words, Chubby wheeled around and took off down the street at a near lope, the fastest Taehyung had ever him move. 

He shifted his beseeching gaze to you but you simply shake your head in disgust and turned away from him, stumbling when the heel of your slipper gave out altogether. Muttering beneath your breath, you hopped up and down just long enough to divest yourself of both slippers, hurled them down into an alley, then marched away from them all in your stocking feet. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Taehyung called after you. 

“Home,” you said shortly. “Where I plan to accept the first proposal from the first man who can prove he still has possession of his soul. I hear the Marquess just might be in the market for a new fiance.” 

Taehyung gazed after you, swearing softly beneath his breath. 

Jin joined him, the crossbow now pointed to the ground instead of his heart. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your touch with the ladies, little brother.” 

Fingering the fresh hold in the silk of his waistcoat, Taehyung shot him a dark look. “You won’t be surprised to learn that I’m even more popular with my tailor.” 

\- - - - - 

A knock sounded on your bedchamber door, polite but persistent. 

Your only response was to huddle deeper into the window seat, drawing the down filled counterpane you had wrapped around your shoulders up to your chin. Outside the window the first pearly blush of dawn was just beginning to blur the edges of the night. 

You heard a soft creak as the door swung open, then closed again. 

Without even turning around, you said, “Have I ever told you that there are times when I wish you were a vampire so you couldn’t come into my room without being invited?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” your older sister asked, crossing the room and easing herself down on the opposite end of the window seat. “Older sisters are far more powerful than vampires. Not even garlic or a crucifix will keep us away when were determined to meddle in your affairs.” 

She drew a monogrammed handkerchief out of the bodice of her gown and offered it to you. It was the same handkerchief Jin had given your older sister at their very first meeting. You accepted the offering and honked loudly into it. At the moment you had no patience for such sentimental tripe. 

You dabbed at your tender nose. “Now that I’ve succeeded in bringing home the prodigal son, shouldn’t you be out killing the fatted calf? Or did he volunteer to do that himself?” 

“I don’t believe he’s had the opportunity. Jin’s been locked in the study with him for most of the night.” 

“So that’s what all the shouting was about. I doubt there’s any plaster left on the ceiling down there.” 

Your older sister reached out and patted her knee through the counterpane. “Jin told me what happened at Company Crossing.” 

“Oh, he did, did he? Did he also tell you that while I was mooning over his brother and making an utter cake of myself, Taehyung was rolling around in the bed of a female vamp who makes Borgia look like the Virgin Mary? A vamp who just happens to have his missing soul tucked away in her reticule?” 

Your older sister nodded. “I believe he might have made mention of that. Namjoon is coming back tonight after sunset so they can discuss what’s to be done about her.”

“Good,” you said briskly. “The sooner she’s gone, the sooner Taehyung can return to the life he’s chosen.”

Your older sister sighed, plainly reluctant to continue. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him, pet, but when he left home to search for his soul, you were little more than a--”

“Don’t!” you warned, stabbing a finger at her. “If you say ‘child’, I’m going to throat a tantrum so loud Jimin will have to lock me in the broom closet with the twins.” 

“Can you truly blame him for going away? What did he have to offer you but danger and heartache?”

“What are you trying to say?” you fought to blink back a rush of fresh tears. “That it was noble of him to sacrifice his body on the altar of dissolution and debauchery? That he did it all for me?”

“He knew he couldn’t change what he was. Not even for you.”

“Ah, but there’s the rub, isn’t it, sis? Once he found her, he could have changed what he was. For. But he didn’t.” you shake your head, dashing a tear from your cheek. “I’ve wasted all these years believing I was the only one who could save him when he never really wanted to be saved at all.” 

Your sister gently stroked a damp strand of hair from your cheek. “Perhaps he didn’t believe he was worth saving.”

Afraid you would crumble anew beneath the weight of your sister’s sympathy, you drew the counterpane even more tightly around your shoulders and went back to gazing out the window. “Perhaps he was right.” 

As your sister rose and slipped silently out of the room, you watched the shadows of the night steal away, taking the last of your girlhood dreams with them. 


	8. Chapter 7

You lingered in your bedchamber until well after noon that day. You might have hidden out there indefinitely, but you didn’t want your family to think you were sulking, or worse yet, nursing a broken heart. The sun had finally crept out as well and with it not due to set for several hours, you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about running into Taehyung on some deserted landing. After over five years of waiting for him to come home, it was still difficult to believe that you were now residing beneath the same roof. 

You glided gracefully down the long curving staircase, one hand drifting lightly over the banister. It was pure happenstance that you’d chosen to don one of your most flattering gowns--a day dress woven from silk the exact rich blue shade that makes your hair stand out. Sashes had been creeping lower for nearly a decade and the deep V of your stomacher bodice only served to accentuate your slender waist and the generous swell of your not so slender bosoms. A delicate chemisette peeked out of your rounded neckline in a teasing hint of lace. You had eschewed your usual choker in favor of a scarf fashioned from white Japanese gauze, wrapping it around your throat twice so that its gossamer ends floated behind you like angel wings. 

You touched a hand to your hair. It wasn’t as if you had instructed your maid to take excessive care with your coiffure. It had required less than thirty hairpins to coil the heavy mass on top of your head, leaving a shimmering cascade of curls to frame your face. 

You passed the gilt framed looking glass in the entrance hall, then stopped and backed up, unable to resist tweaking a bouquet of fresh roses into your cheeks. Why shouldn’t you strive to look your best? After all, a young lady never knew when an eligible suitor might come calling. 

You were tilting your chin this way and that to admire your reflection when a cadaverous figure garbed in black livery materialized just over your left shoulder. 

“Jimin!” you exclaimed, clapping a hand to your fluttering heart. “You simply must stop creeping up on me that way. If you didn’t have a reflection, I’d have sworn you were a vampire!” 

Although the butler’s face wore its customary scowl, there was an unmistakable twinkle of glee in his eyes. “Have you heard that Master Taehyung has come home?”

You turned around to glare at him directly. You knew that he knew that you knew very well that Taehyung was back in residence. Age hadn’t dulled the crusty snoop’s eyesight, his hearing, or his wits. He probably also knew exactly what time you had finally stopped weeping into your pillow last night and drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

“I had heard a rumor to that effect.” you said primly. “Am I to assume he’s napping in the wine cellar?”

Without uttering a single word, Jimin lifted an arm and pointed one long, bony finger at the library door. All he needed was a scythe and a hooded cloak and he could have passed for death himself. 

Swallowing a knot of dread, you gazed at the tall oak door as if it was the portal to your own crypt. You hadn’t expected to be presented with such a temptation so early in the day. But perhaps it was just as well. After all, what better way to prove to both your family and yourself that you were finally free of Taehyung’s seductive spell?

You smiled at Jimin as if you hadn’t a care in the world. “Perhaps I should just peek in on him and make sure he’s resting comfortably.”

“That would be ever so considerate of you, miss.” The butler bares his teeth at you in a death rictus of a smile. 

You took two hesitant steps toward the door, then turned back, determined to inform Jimin that you had thought better of the notion and perhaps Master Taehyung should be left undisturbed for at least the next century or two. 

The butler was gone. He’d somehow managed to slip away as much as a creak of his ancient bones. Puffing out a sigh, you turned back to the door. 

Swallowing your misgivings, you slipped into the library, easing the heavy door shut behind you. You could see why the room might be enticing to a vampire in dire need of a good day’s rest. Rich dark mahogany paneled two of the walls while the remaining two were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The room sported only a single narrow window and its opaque velvet drapes had not only been drawn, but painstakingly pinned shut--Jimin’s doing, no doubt. It would hardly do for little Evelyn to wander in and accidentally drag them open to the sunshine, leaving nothing of her uncle but a charred spot on the crimson and gold Turkish carpet. 

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you could just make out a man’s lean form sprawled on one of the burgundy fainting couches that flanked the cold hearth. You crept closer, your heart lurching into an all too familiar rhythm. 

Taehyung had stripped down to shirtsleeves, trousers, and stockings. His lawn shirt hung open at the throat, revealing some skin. His head lolled against the couch’s scrolled arm and his long, muscular legs were stretched out in front of him. His silky long lashes rested flush against his cheeks. Despite the unnatural stillness of his chest, he appeared to be in the deepest of slumbers. 

You felt your heart soften against your will. He was no longer a threat to anyone. His supernatural strength and predator’s instincts might make him nearly invincible b night, yet it was those same instincts that betrayed him with the rising of the sun, leaving him as vulnerable as a child. 

You wondered if he still dreamed. If he strolled through sunlit meadows or if the shadows of the night cloaked his sleeping hours as well as his waking ones. 

Before you could stop yourself, you had reached to brush back the stubborn forelock that always fell over his brow. He stirred and you snatched back your hand, appalled at how easily you had surrendered your newfound indifference. You resolutely turned your back on him, determined to leave him to his dreams, whatever they might be. 

You were halfway to the door when you heard something behind you. 

You slowly turned. Taehyung’s eyes were still closed, his striking face in sweet repose. But Valentine’s contemptuous voice seemed to echo through the cozy silence.  _ How could I not know who you are, what with V here constantly murmuring your name in his sleep? _

You hesitated, knowing you would be the worst sort of fool to linger. Taehyung stirred again, his lips moving soundlessly. Your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of your curiosity, you tiptoed back to the couch. 

A faint smile now curved his lips. “Oh, darling,” he murmured. “Your lips are sweeter than wine. Give me another sip, won’t you?”

You gasped. You should have known his dreams wouldn’t contain anything as tame as a romantic stroll through a sunlit meadow. You stole a guilty look at the door. You knew you ought to back away and slip silently from the room, but instead you found yourself leaning closer to the couch so you wouldn’t risk missing a word. 

A husky chuckle escaped his lips, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “You wicked little minx, you know it always tickles when you kiss me there.” 

You swept your speculative gaze down the length of his lean, well-muscled frame, wondering just where  _ there _ might be. 

“Oh, that’s it, angel...just a little lower...lower...Ahhhhh….” His sigh melted into a deep-throated groan. 

Your mouth went dry. You fanned your flushed cheeks, wondering how it could be so warm in the room when the hearth was stone cold. Even worse, the heat seemed to be spreading like molten honey to your breasts and your belly. 

Taehyung’s voice had faded back to a murmur. Forgetting all about your lovely gown, you dropped to your knees and leaned over him, straining to make out his words. 

His lips were nearly touching your ear when he whispered, “My angel...my sweet...my darling…”

You held your breath, bracing yourself for the moment when he would blurt out Valentine’s name. 

“...my shamelessly inquisitive Y/N.”

You jerked back your head to find Taehyung gazing up at you, his eyes sparkling with both triumph and mischief. “Why, you miserable devil! You were awake the entire time, weren't you?” Scrambling to your feet, you snatched up one of the couch’s tasseled bolsters and began to pummel him with it. 

He lifted his arms to ward off your blows, laughing aloud. “I do hope you’re not armed. Jin loaned me this shirt and I’d hate to return it with a nasty hole over the heart.”

“You ought to be shot for making sport of me in such an unchivalrous manner!”

“And I suppose it’s chivalrous for a lady to eavesdrop on a gentleman, especially in his sleep?”

As he swung his long legs over the edge of the couch and sat up, you realized what a fool you had been to believe him defenseless. His faint pallor only deepened the striking hollows beneath his cheekbones and sharpened the obsidian glitter of his eyes. With his hair rumpled, he looked like temptation itself, a nearly irresistible invitation of sin. 

Backing away from him, you clutched the bolster to your breast like a shield. “You weren’t sleeping and I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was simply…” you paused, frantically scrambling for an alibi, “...searching for a book I thought I’d left on the couch.”

“Were you under the impression that I’d swallowed it?”

You gave him a reproachful glance. “I should have known you were mocking me. No woman with so much as an ounce of moral character would allow herself to be seduced by such a hackneyed piffle. Lips sweeter than wine indeed!” 

He clapped a hand to his heart, wincing in mock pain. “You wound me, Y/N. It’s one thing to shoot a man, quite another to cast aspersions upon his lovemaking skills.” To your alarm, he rose and began to pad toward you. “Are you insinuating that you wouldn’t be moved at all if I told you that your skin was as smooth and sweet as fresh cream?” He lowered his sultry gaze to your mouth. “That I couldn’t tempt you to let me steal a kiss by whispering that your lips were like plump, ripe cherries just begging to be...plucked?” 

Ignoring the treacherous tingling of those lips, you forced yourself to stand your ground, even when he halted less than a foot away from you. “No, but I might develop a sudden and uncontrollable craving for fresh fruit.”

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently tracing the ripe curve of your lower lip with the pad of his thumb. The teasing sparkle had vanished from his eyes, leaving them curiously somber. “What about forbidden fruit? Would you find that equally enticing?”

“Not if it were being offered to me by an unscrupulous snake.” Pulling away from his caress to hide its unsettling effect on you, you said, “If all you have to offer a woman is such overwrought drivel, then perhaps it’s just as well that you have your supernatural skills to fall back on.”

Despite the dim light, you would have almost swore you saw a flash of genuine hurt in his eyes. “Is that what you believe? That the only way I can hope to lure a woman into my bed these days is to work some sort of unholy enchantment upon her?”

You shrugged, so flustered by his touch that you were no longer entirely sure what you believed. “And why not? You confessed on that rooftop that Yoongi had encouraged you to embrace your dark gifts. If a vampire can truly work his will on a mortal mind as legend has long suggested, then what’s to stop you from using that gift on poor unsuspecting women?”

You were caught off guard when he abruptly turned on his heel and paced back to the hearth. His retreat was the last thing you had expected and you could not quite squelch a treacherous flare of disappointment. 

He stood with his back to you for a long moment before slowly pivoting to face you. “Come here, Y/n.”

“What?”

He crooked his finger at you, the motion both lazy and deliberate. “Come here. To me.”

You frowned, taking a step toward him without realizing it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He arched one devilish brow. “Embracing my dark gifts. Come to me, Y/n.  _ Now _ .”

Startled to realize his words were not an invitation but a command, you gazed into his eyes. A hypnotic flame seemed to be burning in their smoky depths, mesmerizing you like a moth helplessly drawn to the one thing that was destined to destroy it. 

The bolster slipped from your fingers to the floor. You felt an irresistible tug as if he’d somehow bound you to him with an invisible but unbreakable cord. Then you were gliding toward him, putting one foot in front of the other until you stood directly in front of him. 

“Touch me,” he commanded, his smoldering eyes devoid of both conscience and mercy. 

A tremor wracked you, but you couldn’t tell if it was born from fear..or anticipation. “Please, Tae,” you whispered. “Don’t do this.” 

He leaned down to your ear, returning your whisper with one of his own. “Put your hands on me.”

Almost as if they have a will of their own, your hands drifted to his chest. You touched him, spreading your fingers to stoke the firm, muscled planes of his chest through the thin lawn of his shirt. He made no move to touch you in return but stood as rigid as a marble statue beneath the loving caress of its sculptor. Your right hand wandered shyly to the open throat of his shirt, bringing you skin to skin, flesh to flesh. You gently sifted your fingers on his toned chest before twining your hand around the broad column of his throat. To your sensitive fingertips, his skin felt like heated satin stretched taut over bronze. 

You gazed deep into his eyes, a helpless captive to his will. In that moment you would have offered him whatever he asked of you, including your throat. But you knew before he spoke that it wasn’t your throat he wanted. 

“Kiss me.” His words were little more than the echo of a whisper in your mind, but you could no more resist them than the tide could resist the inexorable tug of the moon. 

Drawing his head down to yours, you touched your lips ever so gently to the corner of his mouth. Forbidden fruit had never tasted so tempting...or so sweet. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, you thought, you could somehow break the wicked spell he had cast over you. 

But the darkness only made it easier to surrender to him, to press feather soft kisses along the firm, full curve of his lower lip, to breathe out his name on a sigh before deepening the delicious friction of your lips against his. 

Still he made no move to return the caress, forcing you to bear all the burden of pleasuring him. His purported indifference only made you more determined to coax a response from him. Remembering how he had claimed your mouth with such boldness on that snowy rooftop, you parted your lips and told a taste of him with your tongue. 

As you offered him the tender sweetness of your open mouth, Taehyung groaned his own surrender. He wrapped his arms around you, nearly dragging you off your feet in his desperation to mold your enticing curves to the hard, hungry planes of his body. 

He didn’t know what had possessed him to make the first move in a game he had no hope of winning, but he could not stop the dizzying rush of triumph that burned through his veins as you melted into his arms. 

He had thought to enchant you but he was the one bewitched by the silken breath of your sighs, the warm velvet of your skin, the honeyed delights of your mouth. You cast your spell without need of a single word, beguiling him with the promise of pleasures no man could resist. He wanted you more than any woman he’d ever tasted, more than blood, more than life itself. 

He had spent over five long years trying to break the bond forged between you in that crypt only to discover it had been forged with unbreakable chains. No longer able to bear up under their weight, he snak back on the fainting couch, dragging you down on top of him. Still devouring your mouth, he raked a hand through your hair, scattering the pins until the dark strands came tumbling down around him in a silken cloud. 

As your tongues tangled in a song older than words, his hands wandered over the slender contours of your back. He desperately wanted to unlace the built in corset of your bodice, to free the plump softness of your breasts so he could touch and taste them as well. His deft fingers possessed the skill to do so, but some ghost of conscience stayed his hand. He consoled himself by allowing his hands to dance lower, to skate lightly over the small of your back before claiming the generous swell of your rump for his own. 

Undone by his possessive grasp and the slippery silk of your dress, your thighs slip apart, leaving you straddling him. As you writhed against the throbbing ridge of his arousal, driven by raw instinct, Taehyung feared he was in danger of bursting into flame without the threat of torch or pyre. But if such a fire could destroy him, he would willingly cast himself into its flames and welcome his doom. 

He lifted his hips, deepening that exquisite friction until he felt the vibration of your own moan deep in his throat. He knew in that moment that he was one decadent kiss away from rolling you beneath him and ravishing you right there on the fainting couch in his brother’s library. 

Oddly enough, it was the dark and primal power of that image that gentled both his kiss and his embrace. He slid his hands to your back and dragged his lips from your mouth to your temple, nuzzling the downy skin he found there. You collapsed on top of him, resting your cheek against his chest. 

He held you close, reluctant to surrender the warmth of your skin, the shuddering whisper of your breath against his throat, the blessed beat of your heart--all the gifts he had surrendered when he lost his soul. 

Toying tenderly with the silky strands of hair at your nape, he whispered, “Y/n.” 

“Hmmmm?” you murmured. 

“I have a confession to make.” 

You lifted your head to gaze at him, your eyes still shining with desire and your lips glistening with the dew of his kiss. 

Swallowing back a sharp pang of regret, he smoothed a stray curl from your cheek and said quietly, “I don’t possess any powers of mind control.”

You blinked down at him, the mist in your eyes slowly evaporating. “What do you mean?”

He gently stroked your hair. “I didn’t bewitch you, darling. Vampires can’t mold mortals to their will. It’s nothing but a silly myth.”

You shoved yourself to a sitting position, taking all of that precious warmth and life with you. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you bewitched me! If you hadn’t, I would have never behaved in such a shameless and wanton manner.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid ti was nothing more than the power of suggestion.”

You stared at him for several seconds, then rose stiffly to your feet, shaking the wrinkles from your skirt. With your hair tumbled, your lips swollen from his kisses, and the color high in your throat and cheeks, you looked as if he  _ had _ ravished you. Instead of shaming him as it should have, your disheveled appearance only made him want to tug you back into his lap and finish what he’d started. 

_ If you hadn’t confessed your duplicity, you fool, she could have been yours. _ Recognizing that smooth, oily voice, Taehyung wondered if he would ever truly be free of Yoongi. 

He watched through wary eyes as you wound your tumbled hair into a tight coil and secured it with the remaining hairpins, stabbing them into place with enough force to make him wince. “I can’t believe you would play such a cruel trick on me.”

He rose to his feet. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel, Y/n. Too clever for my own good perhaps, but not cruel.”

Avoiding his eyes, you tucked a wisp of lace that had wiggled its way out of your bodice back into place. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly sound explanation. It must have been some primitive form of hypnotism you learned in your travels. I’ve often heard of rogues and charlatans employing such practices for their own selfish gain.”

He captured your wrist and tugged you around to face him, refusing to allow you to dismiss him--and those wild, tender moments of passion you’d shared--so easily. “Perhaps there is a perfectly sound explanation. Perhaps I simply offered you the freedom to do what you’ve never stopped wanting to do.”

You gazed up at him, the hurt in your eyes warring with longing. He could see that you still wanted to touch him. Still craved the taste of his kiss, the feel of his hands against your skin. 

“If this is nothing but a cruel trick,” he said softly, touching a hand to the downy softness of your cheek, “then I fear it has been played upon the both of us.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as if to deny the truth of his words even as your lips parted to confess them. He was lowering his mouth to yours to accept that confession when a knock sounded on the door. You sprang away from him, blushing as if you had just been caught rolling around on the couch in  _ flagrante delicto _ instead of just stealing a kiss. 

“Come in,” you called out, smoothing your skirts and giving your hair one last shaky pat. 

Jimin slunk into the library, his thin lips pursed in a sullen pout. “You have a caller, Miss. Will you be receiving this afternoon?”

You frowned. “Who is it?”

“The Marquess.” the butler drawled with enthusiasm. “He claims he wanted to make sure you hadn’t suffered any distressing repercussions after your unfortunate ‘adventure’ the other night.”

“How very kind of him,” you murmured, stealing a thoughtful look at Taehyung’s scowl. “Why don’t you show him into the drawing room and ring for the maid to bring us some tea? Perhaps my older sister would be kind enough to pour for us.”

“Why don’t you show him in here and I’ll pour?” Taehyung suggested, parting his lips just enough to reveal a teasing threat of fang. 

“On second though, Jimin, why don’t you show our guest into the music room? The windows all face west and we wouldn’t want to squander a moment of this lovely winter sunshine.” You offered Taehyung a smile. “I should hope the sunlight would show me off to my best advantage.” 

He glowered at you. “Oh, I don’t know. I rather like the way you look in the dark.”  _ And the way you feel _ , his smoldering glance plainly added. 

As Jimin took his leave, you hastened toward the door, turning back to face Taehyung only when you were well out of his reach. “It has occurred to me that if we’re both going to be residing beneath your brother’s roof while we decide what’s to be done about your mistress---”

“ _ Former _ mistress,” he bit off, folding his arms over his chest. 

“--then perhaps it would be best if you tried to think of me as your sister.”

Taehyung shuddered. “I’d much rather think of you as the comely upstairs maid who stole my…. _ heart _ when I was thirteen.”

“Well, at least that explains what happened to it,” you replied briskly. “Now if you’ll be kind enough to excuse me, sir, I’ll leave you to your dreams.”

You ducked quickly out the door, knowing full well that the only thing that could follow you into the sunshine-dappled entrance hall was his frustrated growl. 

** _\- - - - - _ **

“Would you care for another kiss, my lord?” You extended the elegant sevres tea tray, a rapid smile frozen on your lips. 

The marquess choked on his tea, his rather prominent adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Pardon me?”

As your older sister gave your ankle a sharp kick, you felt heat flood your cheeks. “A crumpet, my lord. Can I tempt you to try another crumpet?” 

“Oh...well, in that case…” Still looking doubtful, he plucked a crumpet from the tray. 

Resting the tray back on its wheeled cart, you glanced at the window. The sun’s ruthless rays were streaming through the broad bay, illuminating every flaw in the beautifully appointed music room, including the marquess’s receding hairline and the sneer of derision that haunted his lips even when he smiled. 

“I’m relieved to see that you haven’t suffered any ill effects after your little escapade the other night, Miss Y/L/N. I shudder to think of the fate that might have befallen you while you were searching for that--” the marquess stopped and attempted to clear the snarl from his voice. “Forgive me--I had a bit of crumpet caught in my throat--while you were searching for the viscount’s brother.”

Your older sister shot you a knowing look. “Our Y/N has always had a tender heart. You can’t fault her for trying to bring our black sheep back to the fold.”

“I have nothing but admiration for your Christian charity, my dear.” Hoseok graced you with a thin lipped smile. “But some lost souls are beyond redemption and best left to the devil’s dubious mercies.”

After your encounter with Taehyung in the library, you should have been in hearty agreement with him. Which didn’t explain why your hands were suddenly trembling with anger. 

Before you could slosh your tea into your lap, you lifted the cup to your lips and took a delicate sip. “Then I can only assume you haven’t heard the wonderful news?”

His smile wavered. “What news?”

“Taehyung has come home.” you said, affecting an ingenuous smile of your own. “After all these years, he’s finally returned to the loving bosom of his family!”

Looking as if he had the tea tray itself lodged in his throat, Hoseok rose halfway to his feet, his gaze flicking ever so briefly to  _ your _ bosom. “V is here? In this house? At this very moment?” 

“You needn’t whistle for the nearest constable, my lord.” you returned your cup to its saucer. “We’re all well aware that you bought up all of his gambling vowels.”

“And I’m sure my husband will be more than happy to settle any debts his brother incurred while he was away.” Your older sister added, helping herself to another tea cake. 

The marquess sank back down on the sofa, looking none too pleased by the notion. “Far be it for me to sully this lovely occasion with crass talk of commerce. I just can’t help but question the wisdom of allowing a...a man with V’s reputation to reside beneath the same roof as an unmarried and impressionable young woman.”

You arched one eyebrow. “And I can’t help but wonder if your fiance would have embraced such a cynical viewpoint?”

Even in the poor light, you could see Hoseok’s face darkened. “Since she and I are currently estranged, her opinions are no longer any concern of mine, It’s just been my experience that the best use for the black sheep of most families is to make mutton.”

You abruptly rose to your feet. “I’m afraid I must leave you to my sister’s care, my lord. I’m feeling a bit flushed and fear I might be taking a fever of some sort.”

“Nothing contagious, I hope?” he ventured, jerking a scented handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat and holding it over his nose. 

Keenly aware of your older sister’s gaze, you offered him a cool smile. “It’s nothing you need trouble yourself about, my lord. I appear to be the only one susceptible to this particular ailment.” Bobbing him a graceful curtsy, you hastened from the music room, hoping you could find a cure for the malady you suffered before it proved fatal to your heart. 

** _\- - - - -_ **

The winter night fell hard and early, taking the temperature with it and leaving sparkling kisses of frost on the window panes of your bedchamber. Although you knew the darkness would free Taehyung to prowl the house, you had no intention of remaining a prisoner in your own room. As soon as Jin sent word that Namjoon had arrived, you would join them all to discuss Valentine’s future. Or lack thereof, you thought grimly. 

Your restlessness growing, you tossed aside the book of Byron’s poems you had been trying to read and wandered to the window. After only one encounter, Taehyung had you craving the shadows, craving the night, craving his touch. It was hardly the first time his kiss--or his touch--had ignitied this strange yearning, this nagging restlessness. You glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. The delicate brass hour hand was already creeping toward the seven. 

Your suspicions growing, you hurried down the stairs, pausing to steal a look from the window on the second story landing. Namjoon’s curricle was already parked in the alley behind the town house, its matched pair of bays snorting out puffs of steam in the frosty air. 

Your determined strides carried you past a pair of startled footmen and directly to the door of Jin’s study. You threw it open without bothering to knock. 

Jin was perched on the corner of his desk while Namjoon and Taehyung sprawled in the leather chairs flanking it. Each of the men had a cigar in one hand and a tumblr of port in the other. At least Jin and Namjoon had enough sense to look gratifyingly guilty. 

You closed the door behind you with a decisive thump, batting at the haze of smoke that hung over the lamplit room. Although Namjoon and Jin immediately put out their cigars in deference to your presence, Taehyung simply took a long, lazy drag on his slender cheroot, then blew out a ribbon of smoke that curled around him like a lover’s hand. His fashionable pallor had given way to a healthy glow, which made you suspect Jimin had made a late run to the butcher shop. 

“Forgive me for being late,” you said frigidly. “My invitation must have been lost in the post.”

Jin winced. “Please don’t take offense, Y/N. We simply saw no point in causing you any more distress.”

“How very thoughtful of you to consider my delicate sensibilities. Perhaps I should retire to my bedchamber to press some flowers or stitch a sampler with some inspiring homily on it.”

“I’m not trying to dismiss you. Given what you endured last night, I just thought it would be best if you allowed us to handle---”

“Let her stay.” Resting the side of his boot on his opposite knee, Taehyung stubbed out the cheroot on the boot’s sole before flicking it toward the fire on the hearth. “She’s earned the right.” 

As Namjoon scrambled out of his chair and ushered you into it, you gave Taehyung a grudging nod of thanks. Namjoon settled his lanky form against the windowsill, his shrewd gaze traveling between the two of you. 

Jin rested his tumbler on the desk and rubbed his jaw, looking as if he wished he were anywhere else in the world. “Taehyung here was just explaining to us how he came to make this...um...woman’s acquaintance.”

“She’s not a woman.” you said firmly with a glare. “She’s a monster.”

Taehyung hiked one eyebrow in your direction, giving you no choice but to tar him with the same brush. You lowered your gaze to your lap, but refused to blush. 

Still eyes you, he took a generous sip of his port. “As I was saying before we were interrupted, when I first went to Paris to seek the vampire who had sired Yoongi, I’m afraid I wasn’t particularly subtle in my inquiries. The overlord of their nest was a rather nasty tempered fellow who hated us even more than he hated mortals. When he discovered that I was seeking to destroy one of my own kind so that I could retrieve my mortality, he didn’t take it very well. He had me bound to a stake, doused in oil, and was about to take a torch to me when Valentine stepped in to plead for my life.”

You sniffed. “How very charitable of her.”

“I rather thought so at the time since my hair was starting to smolder,” Taehyung said dryly. “Because she intervened on my behalf, they ended up exiling her from the nest and we both had to flee Paris.”

“At least you had each other.” You leaned toward him in wide eyed interest. “So did you find out she had your soul before or after the two of you became lovers?”

“Y/N!” Jin dropped his head into his hands with a groan while Namjoon downed his port in a single gulp and turned to give the window a yearning look. 

But Taehyung met your gaze squarely. “After, I’m afraid. When it would have seemed the height of hypocrisy to repay her for saving me by destroying her.” 

“I forgot that you’re a man who always pays your debts,” you said softly. “Although Hoseok might disagree.” 

“Enough about the past,” Jin said, earning a relieved look from Namjoon. “We’re here tonight to make certain that Y/N has a future. If this Valentine is such a ferocious adversary, then why did she run away last night?”

Taehyung snorted. “She hasn’t survived this long by being a fool. She’s well aware of your reputation as a vampire hunter.”

“Then perhaps she’s already left Sensorica.” Namjoon offered. 

“She won’t leave him.” you said dully but with utter conviction. 

“And she won’t leave Y/N now that she knows where to find her...at least not alive,” Taehyung added grimly. “Even if I could find her and somehow convince her to come away with me, she’d only leave behind one of her minions to finish Y/N off. We have to capture her  _ before _ she can give those orders.” 

“What if I send Y/N away?” Jin suggested. “I could send her to the castle until we settle this matter.” 

You stiffened. “I won’t give her the satisfaction of running from her! It’s humiliating enough that I let her get the best of me last night.”

“She’d only follow anyway.” Taehyung pointed out. 

Namjoon stroked his narrow chin. “If we know she’s going to ome for Y/N, then why can’t we just sit back and wait for her to make her move? 

Taehyung shook his head. “Because she’s clever enough to bide her time. For an impulsive creature, she can be extraordinarily patient. She’ll wait until we relax our guard. And then it will be too late.” 

“Besides,” you said, “we have to draw her out of hiding before she murders any more innocent women.” You rose to pace in front of the hearth, keenly aware of Taehyung’s heavy lidded gaze following your every step. “She seems to be operating under the delusion that Taehyung still harbors some sort of sentimental attachment to me, which we all know to be blatantly untrue.”

Although Taehyung’s jaw tightened, he wisely kept his thoughts to himself and took another sip of the port. 

“If we could only find some way to use her jealous as a weapon against her…” you tapped one finger against your bottom lip. “I keep thinking about something Yoongi said right before he locked me and Taehyung in that crypt together.”

Jin exchanged a worried glance with Namjoon. “You almost died in that crypt, pet. There’s no need for you to relive such painful memories.”

“Your brother almost died, too,” you reminded him before turning to Taehyung. “Do you remember what Yoongi said right before he shoved me into your arms? He said that if you took my soul, you could ‘enjoy my company for all eternity.’”

“How could I forget? He was suggesting that I make you my eternal bride.” Taehyung swirled the port around in the bottom of the tumbler, his expression bitter. “For such a bloodthirsty bastard, he was quite the romantic.”

“What if we made Valentine believe that you’ve done just that?” You touched a hand to the white scarf encircling your throat. “She already knows that you’ve left your mark on me. So why not make her think that you returned to Sensorica to finish what you started all those years ago? Is there anything that would infuriate her more? Why, it would be as if we’d dashed holy water in her face!” Although you made a valiant effort, you couldn’t completely hide your delight at the prospect. 

“I thought we were trying to save your life, not goad her into killing you more quickly.” Namjoon pointed out. “Won’t infuriating her just make her more dangerous?”

“Perhaps. But it will also make her more rash and apt to make mistakes. If she truly believes Taehyung has chosen me over her, she won’t be willing to bide her time any longer. Her patience will have come to an end.”

“As will your life if you make a single misstep.” Jin reminded you, his scowl deepening. 

Taehyung eyed you with equal skepticism. “Do you truly believe you could masquerade as a vampire with enough conviction to fool Valentine?”

You shrugged. “Why not? Your kind walks among us mortals with the setting of every sun. You eat our food. You drink our wine. You dance to our music. You mimic our breathing.” You met his challenging gaze with one of your own, your voice deepening on a husky note. “Why, you even make love to us.” 

This time Jin groped for the bottle of port instead of his glass. He took a long swig before handing it to a grateful Namjoon. 

“But mortals are more easily deceived,” Taehyung replied softly, refusing to free you from the hypnotic tug of his gaze. “They’re quite adept at seeing only what they want to see.” 

For a heartbeat of time, you were back in the library again. Back in his arms. “Perhaps that’s because we’re taught to believe in mermaids and leprechauns and noble princes on white horses before we grow up and have to put such foolish fancies behind us.”

“Valentine is no fool. You won’t just have to convince her that I’ve turned you into a vampire. You’ll have to make her believe that you’re in love with me.” 

“That shouldn’t be too difficult.” your voice sounded a shade too bright and brittle, even to your own ears. “You’ve said yourself that I’m an accomplished actress.”

Jin sighed, visibly running out of arguments. “Do you think this scheme stands a chance of working, Tae? You know this ...  _ woman _ better than anyone.” 

“In every sense of the word,” you couldn’t resist adding. 

Taehyung slanted you a look that would have quailed any stranger he happened to encounter in a dark alley. “There’s a chance it might work.” 

Namjoon cleared his throat. “And just how is Valentine to learn that this momentous event has taken place? Should we take out an ad in the  _ Undead Gazette _ ?”

Taehyung glanced toward the fire, the set of his jaw one you were coming to know only too well. “I just might know a way.” 

You all gazed at him expectantly. 

“Jin may have driven all of the vampires out of Sensorica, but there’s a flourishing nest of them living in a country house in Mirage, less than an hour’s ride from the city.” 

“I’ve heard rumors about the existence of such a place,” Jin admitted. “I suppose I should have paid them a visit before now but ever since my daughter was born…” He shrugged, plainly reluctant to admit that the birth of his child had encouraged him to guard his own life with more care. 

“I took shelter there briefly after Chubby moved back into his father’s house,” Taehyung said. “Their overlord won the manor in a wager from some poor drunken sot who’d already gambled away the rest of his family’s fortune. Vampires are worse gossips than mortals, you know. If we make an appearance there, I can promise you that Valentine will hear all about it before dawn of the next day.” 

“Oh, goody!” you exclaimed dryly. “I do so love a country house party! When do we leave?”

“Don’t start planning your ensemble yet,” Jin warned you. “If you think I’m going to allow you to march into that nest of monsters all alone--”

“She won’t be alone.” Taehyung rose from his chair to join you, the note of authority in his voice quelling even Jin. “I’ll be right there by her side.”

Jin eyed him in disbelief, “Weren’t you the one who kept me up until dawn blistering my ears because I let her coax me into using her for bait?”

“She won’t be the bait this time. I will. Once Valentine finds out that I’ve ‘betrayed’ her, she’ll be too hellbent on my destruction to worry about anyone else.” He took your hand, drawing you even closer to him. “And I can promise you that I’d drive a stake through my own heart before I’d let anyone, living or undead, harm a single hair on Y/N’s head.” 

Before you could react to that impressive vow or the disarmingly natural feel of having his fingers laced through yours, Jin said, “If you expect me to give this unholy little alliance my blessing, you’re going to have to me exactly what you intend to do with our querry once our trap springs shut.” 

You held your breath, trying to pretend your entire future didn’t hinge on Taehyung’s answer. 

He was silent for a long moment before finally saying, “I’ll take her away from here. So far away she’ll never again be able to hurt anyone I--” he stopped, his grip on your hand tightening until it was almost painful. “Anyone at all.” 

Feeling as brittle as one of the Dresden shepherdesses you had coveted as a child, you dragged your hand from his. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I should probably go inform my sister that I’ll be attending a country house party tomorrow hosted by a nest of bloodthirsty vampires.” 

After the study door had closed behind you, Jin shook his head, his handsome features clouded by both bewilderment and anger. “What in the hell are you doing, Tae? I don’t understand your reluctance to destroy this creature.”

Taehyung turned on him, his dark eyes blazing. “Well, maybe I’ve never understood your reluctance to destroy me!” Pivoting on his heel, he started for the door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jin demanded, moving to block his path. 

“Out,” Taehyung replied shortly, refusing to yield so much as an inch to his older brother.

Once Jin might have cowed him with little more than a disapproving look, but now they stood toe to toe, equal in both stature and determination. 

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

“I don’t know. That depends on whether I’m here as your guest ...or your prisoner?”

When Taehyung’s resolute expression did not waver, Jin reluctantly stepped aside, freeing him to stride from the study and the house.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the late delay. A lot of things had happened which had caused me to pause my writing. I am back now. Updates are coming more frequently.

Taehyung walked the bustling Sensorica streets as if he owned both the city and the night, sending everyone who dared to look upon his face scurrying out of his path. Some of them instinctively recognized a monster when they saw one while others had simply learned that it was wiser not to provoke a man who had been born to both privilege and power, but who still stalked the night with the dangerous grace of a predator. 

When a pasty faced clerk unwittingly bumped his shoulder as he ducked out of his office, it was all Taehyung could do to bite back a growl. He knew he ought to be relieved when the crowds slowly began to thin, but the thought of them all rushing home to their cozy fires and the welcoming arms of their loved ones only sharpened the edge of his temper. He didn’t even have Chubby’s stolid company to give him cheer. The note he’d had a footman deliver to his friend’s house earlier in the day had been returned to him with its wax seal unbroken. 

Although he walked the streets unfettered, he felt as if he was still dragging the chains from the crypt behind him. Yoongi’s taunts had never stopped haunting him. 

_ You disappoint me, Tae. I had expected so much more from you. You’re not willing to be a vampire, but you’re not a man, either.  _

Yoongi had been wrong. He was both a man and vampire and cursed with the hungers of both. Hungers that gnawed at the aching hole where his soul had once resided every time he looked at you, caressed the milky softness of your skin, tasted the forbidden sweetness of your lips. 

Yoongi would have been gratified to know that after all these years he still hungered for both your flesh and your blood.

Someone jostled him from behind and he whirled around, his lips parting in an involuntary snarl. 

A woman was standing there, her pretty face wreathed in a halo of auburn curls. “Sorry, guv’nor. My mom always said I was clumsy enough to trip over my own feet.” 

Although her cloak was threadbare, she’d taken some care with her appearance. Bright spots of rouge stained her cheeks and she’d tucked a wilted pansy behind one ear. 

“No harm done, miss.” he assured her stiffly. “I’m sure the fault was mine.”

Before he could dismiss her, she boldly wrapped one gloved hand around his forearm. “Tis’ a bitter cold night, sir. I thought perhaps you might be looking for something softer than a heated brick to warm your bed.” 

She was his for the taking. Taehyung could see that in the inquisitive tilt of her head, the appreciative gleam in her eye. She believed him to be a gentleman, not a beast. 

There was nothing to stop him from accepting her offer and escorting her to some nearby inn with worn but clean sheets. He could court her with the same pretty words you had mocked, then feast on her in whatever manner he chose. By the time his practiced caresses had banished the memory of the fumbling hands and sweating, heaving men who had come before him, he doubted she would cost him a single coin. 

But he couldn’t shake the notion that she might cost him something much dearer. 

Ignoring a savage stab of regret, he dug a coin out of his coat pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Why don’t you take this and warm yourself by your own fire tonight?” 

Tipping his hat to her, he started across the street, where a butcher was just stepping out to lock the door of his shop for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit short.


	10. Chapter 9 part 1 of 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I only have 4 weeks left of college. So I will have more time. I broke this chapter off into 2 parts. Hopefully it gives you something and not nothing. Again, I am deeply sorry for my absences. This is a short chapter like the last.

You were back in the crypt. 

The dank smell of crumbling earth and ancient decay filled your nostrils. You would have been paralyzed with terror if Taehyung hadn’t been there. If he hadn’t wrapped his strong arms around you to still your trembling. He had already torn away the gag and ropes Yoongi had used to silence and restrain you, chafing the feeling back into your numb wrists with his own unsteady hands. 

“Why did Yoongi say those terrible things?” A sob caught in your throat as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek to his chest. “Why did he say you were going to kill me?” 

Taehyung shoved you out of his arms and staggered toward the corner, ducking his head and lifting a hand to shield his face from the torchlight. “Yoongi was right,” he growled. “You need to stay the hell away from me!” 

Despite his warning, you took an instinctive step toward him. “But why? Why should I listen to anything that miserable monster has to say?” 

“He may be a monster, Y/n. But so am I.” Taehyung slowly lifted his head and lowered his hand, baring his face to the torchlight and your anguished gaze. 

You clapped a hand to your mouth, but it was too late to smother your horrified gasp. His skin was stretched taut over the striking bones of his face, his eyes hollow but glowing with a primitive hunger. It was as if everything he had been pared down to its very essence, leaving something that was both beautiful and terrible to behold. As you watched, mesmerized by his feral grace, his eye teeth sharpened and lengthened, curving into a pair of gleaming fangs designed by the devil for only one deadly purpose. 

“Seokjin was never a vampire, was he?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Taehyung slowly shook his head. 

“It’s always been you.”

He nodded. 

You were distracted from the unlikely sight of his fangs by an even more impossible one. The rags of his shirt hung open halfway to his waist, revealing the familiar shape burned into the flesh of his chest. 

With a broken cry, you ran to him. You traced the outline of the crucifix seared into his flesh as if you could somehow absorb his pain through your fingertips, then lifted your tear filled eyes to his face. “Dear God, what did he do to you?”

Taehyung swallowed, his tongue sweeping over his parched lips in a vain attempt to moisten them. His voice had deepened to a raspy croak. “He drained me of my strength with the crucifix. Starved me. Refused to let me drink.”

He struggled to pull away from you, but he lost his balance and stumbled to his knees, his body wracked by uncontrollable shivers. 

You dropped to your knees beside him. “You’re dying,” you whispered, no longer able to deny the staggering evidence before you. 

He nodded. “I don’t have much...time left. You’ll be safe once it’s done. Yoongi will make sure we’re discovered.” A bitter smile curved his lips. “The bastard never could resist..showing off his handiwork. Do you see hose manacles over there?” he asked, pointing to the rusty chains dangling from hooks embedded deeply in the stone wall. “I need you to use them to chain me to the wall.” 

You recoiled, unable to hide your distaste. “Like some sort of animal?”

“I am an animal, Y/n. The sooner you accept it, the safer you’ll be.”

You shook your head, your voice steady despite the tears trickling down your cheeks. “I won’t do it. I won’t leave you chained up to starve like some sort of rabid dog.”

He closed his hands over your upper arms, his fingers biting into your tender flesh with bruising force. “Damn it, girl, you have to listen to me! I don’t know how much longer I can trust myself not...hurt you.” 

“You can drink from me,” you urged. “Just enough to keep you alive until someone comes for us.” 

He made a strangled sound deep in his throat and you understood for the first time that this was about more than just bloodlust. “Don’t you understand? If I allow myself to take that first taste of you, I won’t be able to stop. Not until it’s too late for the both of us.” He shifted one hand to your face, his unsteady fingers stroking a sooty curl from your cheek with devastating tenderness. “Please, Bright Eyes, I’m begging you…” 

You closed your eyes to block out his pleading gaze, knowing what you had to do. When you opened them, you were able to offer him a smile through your tears. “Why, Taehyung, you know I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.” 

Ignoring the threat of those deadly fangs, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed the softness of your lips to his……

You opened your eyes to gaze up at the canopy of your bed, both your body and your heart consumed by a wistful ache. As strange as it seemed, you wanted to summon back the dream. To return to that crypt and the ghost of your former self. That girl had been so sure of herself, willing to sacrifice everything--even her life--for the beautiful boy she had loved with such innocence and passion. 

The dream had only served to remind you that Taehyung had once been willing to do the same. That he would have ended his existence as a soulless husk with no hope of salvation rather risk hurting you. You rolled to your side, hugging your pillow to your breast in a vain attempt to dull the ache in your heart, and wondered what had changed. Just what hold did this Valentine have over him?

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing it would be far wiser to wish for a dreamless sleep. But before your wish could be granted, the notes of a distant melody came drifting to your ears. Still hugging the pillow, you sat up, blinking in bewilderment. Had your dream somehow conjured up another ghost from your past?

Drawing your silk dressing gown over your night rail, you climbed down from the bed and padded to the door. You eased it open, half expecting to discover the music existed only in your overwrought imagination. But it grew a whisper louder---a bittersweet lullaby being played for the dreaming occupants of the mansion. 

Knotting the sash of your dressing gown, you hurried down the stairs. Instead of discouraging you, the shadows that draped the deserted corridors of the house seemed to welcome you, drawing you deeper into their embrace with each step. The next thing you knew was easing open the door of the music room, your thirsty senses drinking in the notes pouring out of the grand pianoforte beneath the window. 

Taehyung sat at the instrument, his fingers dancing over the keys with a lover's grace, coaxing forth a response that was both tender and passionate. The sunlight might be his mortal enemy, but the moonlight streaming through the broad bay window clearly adored him. Her silvery rays kissed the glossy silk of his hair and caressed his strong masculine profile, limning it in silver.


End file.
